Stitches
by DRACON1US
Summary: How do you keep a sorcerer in prison? Cenred gets creatively cruel when he takes Merlin prisoner. Arthur has to save him, but he can only do so much with the battered state he finds Merlin in. Warning: some disturbing content
1. Chapter 1

_a/n: I didn't want to start putting this out till I finished my Dalton fic... but I've had the first 4 chapters written for so long! Also, that last chapter is almost done_

_Warnings: violence, gore? sexual abuse? -implications_

_Can be read as Merthur pre-slash. I haven't decided what I want it to be yet so read into it whatever you want_

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><p><em>Stitches<em>

_1_

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><p>It was always easier for Arthur to fight when he had a purpose, and he certainly did tonight.<p>

Effortlessly he cut through five men. They fell quickly. He knew that they must have cried out but he heard little as he moved past their bodies, opened a heavy wooden door and finally, he was in the dungeons.

The guards were easy, a bash to the head with his sword hilt silenced one, the other was less lucky.

The loss of life would come back to him later, some sleepless night when he was sorting through the faces of the men he killed in his own misery, but that didn't matter right now. Right now he couldn't focus on anything other than saving him.

Because had been missing for three weeks, assumed by all, even Arthur himself, to be dead.

Arthur was amazed that the imbecile had managed a way to actually get himself killed after all the things they had been through.

He was more amazed at how devastated he had felt.

He had little memory of the last few weeks. He remembered the first day Merlin didn't show up to work. He had assumed that the idiot was in the tavern or something equally useless.

But as the days dragged on he went to Gaius who looked paler than he had ever remembered him. Gaius had insisted that Merlin had gone to a neighboring village to bring a remedy to a family, but Arthur knew he wasn't telling him the whole truth.

As days became weeks, they began to assume the worst and Arthur tried not to believe it. He had sent search parties out five times and had taken to riding out into the woods at random in the hopes that he could find him.

But Arthur's hope began to fade and his daily rides became rarer while his sleepless nights became longer. He had accepted a new servant finally and felt like he had betrayed the man, even though there was little chance he was alive. Merlin's absence left a bigger hole in his life with each passing day.

But things took a very different turn soon enough.

A note arrived for Arthur, personally delivered by a dead Knight of Camelot riding into the lower town with a letter addressed to Arthur pierced to his back by an arrow.

_Never knew how talented your servant was. Now I know only too well why you kept him so close to you all this time. I'm sure his gifts have come in handy, but he's mine now. I'm sure I'll find some use for him once we can get dear Merlin to behave himself._

_-Cenred_

Arthur was ashamed to say that his first, entirely selfish emotion was relief. If there was any truth in this note, then Merlin was alive.

But then it hit him how distinctly sexual it all sounded...

Arthur's fury that night was indescribable. His father had heard of the note, and had laughed _-laughed-_ at the fact that Cenred was trying to use _a servant_ as bait. Arthur had had to be physically restrained when he made to hit the King. Arthur thought the man should be lucky he didn't draw his sword.

Unfortunately for Uther, Arthur took the bait. The moment those words clicked into place in his mind, his blood went cold with dread and a fierce determination to put an end to... whatever it was that needed ending.

He began packing before he realized he had decided he was leaving. He packed what was left of his dinner and two waterskins. He didn't bother to pack his sleeping mat. He had no intention of sleeping until he found Merlin, and if they made it past that then they'd think about making camp.

He didn't want to risk the lives of anyone but he certainly couldn't ask any soldiers or knights to help him, not without informing his father of what he was planning to do. But he had other men he could turn to.

He made it past the guards without much trouble and found himself on a familiar doorstep.

"Arthur," Gwen said, looking like she had been fast asleep, "Is everything okay?"

"Not quite," he said, "I'm here to see your brother."

Guinevere opened the door a little further to let Arthur in and he saw Elyean sitting up on a bedmat.

It took very little convincing. Merlin had risked his life to save Elyean with Arthur so many months ago. Elyean was a man of honor. He wouldn't pass up an opportunity to pay back that debt and bring back his sister's friend.

Elyean was packing when Guinevere put a hand on Arthur's arm. He didn't turn to her completely, "Don't try to convince me not to go..."

"So you're going to expect me to let you leave and just take my brother as well?" she asked. Her voice was never quite angry, but Arthur heard the edge to it.

"It's his choice, not yours," Arthur said turning to her.

"And when you're all dead," she said, "You, Elyean and Merlin... what am I to do then?"

"Guinevere," he said, staring hard at her, "He has willingly given his life for me more times than I can count. If there's even the tiniest chance we can save him, then you can be damn sure I'll put my life on the line for him."

She sighed, knowing there was no getting through to him when he had made a decision like this.

"Come home," she commanded.

"I'll try," he said, his eyes lingering on her lips before he turned and left.

Then it was a night in and out of the taverns. They were lucky, they found Gwaine around dawn sneaking away from a woman's bed before she woke. He wasn't so drunk that he couldn't listen, and he sobered up significantly when he understood the situation. If there was anyone they could count on to risk everything for Merlin, it was Gwaine.

So here they were, the three of them, separated in an unfamiliar castle and cutting their way through foot soldiers that lay between them and the dungeons, all for a stupid servant.

Arthur, it seemed, was the first to make it. He walked through the cold stone halls. His heart jumped a little with each set of bars as he looked through the bars in each cell, each time half-hoping and half-scared that he'd see that familiar gangly frame.

Cenred's dungeons were rather full, but each cell he passed held a huddled figure he didn't recognize. Men and women alike were chained to walls, curled in corners while others lay dead in the straw, no one bothering to move them before their bodies began to decompose. The whole place stank of death and shit.

Arthur spotted a figure ahead of him who was sitting in a chair fast asleep, an empty bottle of something hanging from his fingertips by his side. His dress told him that he wasn't a soldier but he had a full set of keys on his belt.

Arthur approached him. He kicked him roughly and the man woke with a start, his bottle clattering to the floor.

Arthur's sword was on his chest before the man could fully wake up. His drunken movements came to a stop as he stared, slightly cross-eyed, at the sword trained on his chest.

"What do you want?" he asked, desperately.

"I'm looking for someone," Arthur said, his voice quiet but with a kind of command that would make much braver men quail. "Would you like to help?"

The man whimpered and nodded, finally raising his eyes away from the blade and to the face of its wielder.

"I'm looking for a young man, about twenty years old. He's skinny with dark hair and blue eyes. He would have been brought here about three weeks ago," Arthur said.

The guard stared at Arthur, his eyes widening with each word.

"You know him I take it?" Arthur asked, pressing his sword a fraction harder into his chest.

The man stared for a moment, then nodded very slowly.

"Good, if you value you're life you'll give me the key and take me to him," Arthur said taking his sword off his chest.

Arthur stood back with his hand out, waiting expectantly.

The man stared at his hand, terrified, like it might bite him.

"There's no key..." the man said quietly.

"What do you mean, there's no key?" Arthur snapped. The man didn't respond, he only shook his head a little. Arthur raised his sword once more, "Do as I say or you'll die."

"I'll take you to him!" the man stammered. He stumbled in his haste to get out from under Arthur's weapon and Arthur followed close behind.

Further down the hall they walked, the light dimming and the air thickening. They turned and went down a set of stairs that were cut into the stone and spiraling deep under the ancient castle. The air got colder with each tight turn which were making Arthur dizzy. He stumbled as he reached the bottom step and looked around, confused.

No cells, only an old and dark cavern. There was the torch of the guard but further down the passage there was another light glowing from a gap in the stones.

Arthur looked at the man, confused. He gestured towards the light with his torch and Arthur walked ahead of the guard, his heart rate picking up from adrenaline and confusion, and half ran to the light.

He had expected to see Merlin in chains, hung from the ceiling or chained to a wall. What he didn't expect to see was a four poster bed. The linen was clean and the pillows arranged. He didn't expect to see a side table with a plate full of fruit, meat and cheese, nor a flagon of wine or a familiar brown jacket and neckerchief folded impeccably at the foot of the bed.

He didn't expect to see Merlin lying naked on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

Arthur's mind went blank. He dropped to his knees beside the body. He tried to speak out, but Merlin's name caught in his throat and he could only stare as he took in the sight.

Merlin's body showed terrible signs of beating. Bruises were blossoming along an entire side of his ribcage and his ankle was twisted the wrong way. His face was turned away but Arthur could see a cut on his cheek where the blood had dried and scabbed. And the way he was lying, it was as if he had passed out trying to reach the supper that had been left. One arm was stretched out towards the table and the other was twisted underneath him.

And then Arthur realized Merlin wasn't entirely naked, he was wearing some kind of braided bracelet on both of his wrists. Moving a little closer so he could see them, he saw the intricacy of the pattern of knots in the black, leathery material. They didn't look like bracelets, they were so tight to Merlin's skin that they seemed to be a part of it, and yet there was no sign of irritation around the area. His skin looked healthy, and yet the wristlets should be cutting into his skin.

Tearing his eyes away from the beaten body, he looked back up to the furniture. Why would they leave a prisoner in such a state? It looked like such a mockery against the harsh black stone that made up the backdrop of all this finery. Then again, maybe it was. But why leave him unchained. Arthur backtracked in his brain and there had been no door to these caverns, Merlin could escape the moment he woke up.

He tried to say Merlin's name but found that the lump in his throat prevented him once more. He wanted to shake Merlin awake, but contented himself by placing a bare hand one of his shoulders. His skin was colder than it should be and Arthur took a moment to let his hand rise and fall with the shallow breaths of Merlin's body.

"Merlin," he said, the grief making his voice heavy and slow, "What've they done to you?"

And to his immense surprise, Merlin responded.

Arthur watched as his whole body tensed. Struggling with what seemed to be inordinate amounts of energy, Merlin managed to prop himself on his elbows and turn enough so that he could see if his ears were playing tricks on him.

And then Arthur saw it, and Arthur, proud soldier he was, had never been so close to retching.

His eyes were immediately drawn to Merlin's mouth.

To Arthur's horror, Merlin's lips were sewn together in thick stitches with mean black wire.

Arthur couldn't tear his eyes away from the gruesome sight. The skin around the area was angry and red where the wire disappeared beneath his flesh and his lips were chapped and bleeding.

Merlin whimpered, the tiniest most heart-breaking sound, and Arthur stared for the first time into his eyes which were rimmed with red but bright and wide with hope and disbelief.

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><p><em>an: Dark... I know. The original idea came from me brainstorming how you would keep a powerful sorcerer from escaping a prison cell and my first thought was, "Well... they need to talk to say spells," and this ^ horrible idea came into my head. Cenred didn't count on Merlin being a badass though which leads to bad times for our baby Merlin :/_

_But Arthur will save him! Even if it means some secrets might be coming out by the end (heehee)_


	2. Chapter 2

_a/n: A couple reviewers pointed out that Merlin can do magic without words. Doooon't worry guys, I know all this. There's more to it than that, some of which will come out in this chapter and the next. However, Merlin won't be able to explain fully for a bit but he will in a few chapters._

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><p><em>Stitches<em>

_2_

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><p>Arthur reached out a hand out to him... he didn't know what he was reaching for. Merlin whimpered again and this time his elbow gave out and his shoulder crashed back onto the stone floor and he groaned in pain and Arthur grabbed his other shoulder before he could slump back to the ground.<p>

Arthur's heart was pounding terribly hard in his chest as wave after wave of fear and grief and fury poured through him as he stared at Merlin. He managed to keep Merlin from falling back to the ground and tried to maneuver him towards the bed so that he could reach Merlin's clothes without hurting Merlin.

But Merlin didn't seem like he could move his body in any capacity. It was more than exhaustion and pain... every muscles was perfectly still and limp as Arthur half-dragged, half-carried Merlin the few feet to the bed.

Something was seriously wrong.

Finally, Arthur sat against the bed with Merlin half in his lap. "Merlin..." Arthur murmured as he grabbed the clothes from behind his head, "My god... Merlin..." he kept repeating under his breath through the tears (when had he started crying?) as he tried to put Merlin's trousers on.

It occured to Arthur that if Merlin were conscious he would make a joke about role reversals but the situation didn't really allow for him to see the humor in dressing his battered friend. Instead he could only think of the humiliation that Merlin must have suffered, must still be suffering.

It made sense now why they had left him in this room, why they left him a plate of food that he couldn't muster the energy to reach none the less eat. They left his clothing right there, knowing he didn't have the capability to reach it or dress himself.

"Arthur?" came a shout from a ways down the dungeon. Arthur could tell it was Gwaine and the footsteps became louder.

He was torn between relief and worry -Arthur didn't want Merlin to be anymore exposed- but Gwaine rounded the corner with his own torch and sword by his side before Arthur could manage to cover him.

Gwaine stared down and Arthur watched as Gwaine took in the scene. His face fell immediately when he saw he was naked; it didn't bode well for the what Merlin's prison-life must have been like. When his eyes fell on Merlin's mouth, Arthur could see a cloud of fury pass behind his eyes before he took a step forward and sat back on his heels right next to Merlin.

He dropped his torch and sword and took Merlin's face in both of his hands.

"Merlin," he said gently. Merlin made some kind of noise in the back of his throat and Gwaine gave him a sad smile, "Merlin, we're here now. Everything's going to be okay."

Arthur saw Merlin's eyes brimming as Gwaine fell back and pulled Merlin's pants up. Arthur looked at Merlin who was staring up at him, his head resting on his thigh. Arthur wanted to smile, wanted to say something hopeful and encouraging like Gwaine had but words failed him when Merlin looked at him wordlessly with shining eyes.

"What have they done to you," Arthur whispered as he wiped away a tear that was running down Merlin's cheek.

"That's what I'd like to know..." Gwaine said darkly, "Why can't he move? He seems to be conscious enough."

"He can move," Arthur said, his voice thick, tearing his eyes away from Merlin's wordless gaze to grab his blue shirt. "He moved when I first came but it took all of his strength," Arthur said, "He hasn't moved since."

Gwaine pulled Merlin forward by the waist so he was in a sitting position. His arms lay limp at his sides and his head fell backwards but Arthur managed to pull his blue shirt back on.

"I'll bet my whole purse that these have something to do with it," Gwaine said holding one of Merlin's wrists up to his face to get a better look.

"So would I," Arthur said, "Where's Elyean?"

"Keeping guard at the door," Gwaine said.

They tried to make quick work of his boots, tying them enough that they wouldn't fall off of him.

"This will have to do," Arthur said and he gently pushed Merlin off of him so he could stand, but still hung on to his wrists so he wouldn't fall backwards. In one smooth motion, Merlin was slung over his back. "Grab whatever food from the plate you can carry in your pockets and let's get out of here," Arthur said.

They met Elyean at the entrance. He insisted on carrying Merlin because Arthur was the better fighter but Arthur barely moved more than three feet away from the pair.

Getting out of the castle was a blur for Arthur... it was some kind of miracle that they had made it out of the castle with only a small cut on Gwaine's shoulder. But somehow they managed their way back to the horses.

Arthur didn't give a reason for why he took Merlin from Elyean and put him on his own horse, galloping hard with his men on either side with one hand on the reins and the other wrapped securely around Merlin's chest.

They rode without slowing until the sun fell and the horses couldn't see anymore. Making camp was quick work, they didn't have much with them. Merlin was lain out on on Arthur's furs by the fire. He still hadn't moved in any way of his own accord.

Gwaine was the first person to ask if they should try to cut the wire holding his mouth shut. Elyean looked to Arthur and Gwaine waited as well.

Arthur looked down at Merlin's still body across the fire. Every time Arthur had looked at Merlin, his eyes had been on him already. It was the case then as well. Merlin blinked slowly at him and Arthur

"The wounds already look infected," Arthur said, tearing his eyes away from Merlin's eyes, "We don't have any proper tools or ways of treating him once the wounds are open. We should wait for Gaius."

"And these?" Gwaine asked, squatting down and touching one of Merlin's wrists.

Arthur shook his head, "I don't know."

"It must be what's causing him to be like this... that's a spell, it must be," Elyean said, pulling Merlin's sleeve up enough so that he could examine the bindings more carefully.

Arthur was acutely aware that Merlin could hear everything they were saying and yet here they were talking about him like he wasn't there. If they could only let Merlin speak for himself, they'd know what had happened. But, then again, Merlin might not even be able to speak in his condition.

"We won't be able to take them off without cutting into his skin, do you see how tightly bound they are?" Arthur said, "And if there is an enchantment attached to them, which I think there must be, then we should wait for Gaius. None of us know anything about magic and I don't want to risk anything."

"But how is he going to eat? He needs water Arthur," Gwaine said.

The thought had occured to Arthur already. "I don't know..." Arthur said, no idea what was worse or what Merlin would prefer.

Gwaine sat by Merlin's side again and turned his head gently in his direction so Merlin could see him. "I'm going to try to give you some water, okay Merlin?" he asked. Merlin made the tiniest noise and Gwaine took that as consent. "Help me sit him up," Gwaine said and Arthur sat behind Merlin and held him from behind the shoulders.

Gwaine uncorked his own waterskin and held Merlin's head back a little. Merlin managed to open his mouth a fraction and Arthur could see the pain in his eyes as the stitches stretched and once more that terrible fury passed through him again.

He would make Cenred pay for this. He had half a mind to start a war just so that he could get a chance to kill him slowly... very slowly.

Gwaine very carefully poured some water over his mouth between the stitches. The majority of it ran off of his cheeks but some managed to get in his mouth. They waited for Merlin to swallow and repeated this a few times.

"I just don't understand why..." Elyean said, sitting with his elbows on his knees on the other side of the fire watching the scene. "What kind of torture is this?"

"Well, it's obvious isn't it?" Gwaine said. Elyean and Arthur paused and looked at him. "They didn't want him to speak for whatever reason..." he said.

Arthur's mind seemed to focus on that point, recognizing some significance behind those words but not quiet letting it drift to his consciousness.

"Merlin can tell us once he's better," Arthur said quickly, not wanting to dwell on that strange feeling. Gwaine closed his waterskin and Arthur slowly lowered Merlin until his head was resting in his lap. Arthur took a moment to wipe the water from Merlin's face and from where it had run into his hair with his own sleeve. Arthur watched Merlin carefully, but he didn't meet his eyes anymore.

Arthur didn't bother to notice how Elyean and Gwaine stared at the action. Neither of them had ever seen the prince so tender, and certainly never with Merlin. They were accustomed to their banter and their fights but this was a side of their relationship that surprised both of them.

Arthur gently lifted Merlin off his lap and took his bag and put it under Merlin's head as a pillow.

They began settling down for the night, they were all exhausted and yet no one wanted to sleep. It was beyond unsettling to have Merlin lying there, bloodied and bruised with his mouth stitched up like a wound. The fire was already fading a little and Arthur volunteered to get some more firewood.

"I'll come with you," Gwaine said. Arthur was going to protest but Gwaine gave him a significant look once he was out of Merlin's eyesight.

"Alright," Arthur said unsure. They heard Elyean unsheathe his sword as he was left to protect Merlin by himself and Arthur walked ahead of Gwaine into the dark night with one torch between them.

"Arthur," Gwaine called softly once they were out of earshot, "Arthur, slow down. We need to talk."

"About what, Gwaine?" Arthur said, bending down to pick up a log. Gwaine caught up and took the wood from his hands.

"About how we just found Merlin, half-dead and _naked_ in a dark cold dungeon with his mouth sewn together," Gwaine said harshly. Arthur flinched at his words and Gwaine softened, "I just wanted to talk about it without him hearing."

"He's not a child, he can hear what we have to say," Arthur snapped.

"He's under a spell, clearly he is," Gwaine said, annoyed at Arthur's tone, "We don't know what they did to him. We don't know if we can fix it. What if the spell goes deeper than his strength, it could have affected his mind and if it did, he might not even recognize us."

"He does," Arthur said firmly.

"How do you know?" Gwaine said.

"He recognized me," Arthur said more harsh than he had meant. He shook his head and let out a shaky breath. "I know he did," Arthur said, quieter now, "When I came into the dungeons, I know he heard footsteps and I even put my hand on his shoulder, but he didn't react until he heard my voice." Gwaine listened quietly. "He moved... it took all he had but he managed to turn around and look at me. He's still Merlin... we just need to find a way to fix him," Arthur said dropping another few pieces of firewood into Gwaine's arms.

They gathered firewood in silence for a few minutes in the dark, both of them lost in their thoughts.

"And if he can't be fixed?" Gwaine asked quietly.

"Gaius will know what to do," Arthur said confidently.

"Gaius can't fix everything," Gwaine said. Arthur heard the subtext and it made his heart pick up. He hadn't let those things float to the surface of his thoughts yet. Whatever they had done to Merlin... it may well have ruined him.

"Then I'll fix him," Arthur said quietly, shoving a piece of wood into Gwaine's chest before he strode past him towards the distant light of their camp. Gwaine followed behind and they all settled down for the night.

"I'll take first watch," Arthur said.

"You should sleep, Arthur," Elyean said quietly.

"I'm fine," he said firmly.

Elyean and Gwaine exchanged a look before they both lay down on the hard earth. Arthur stepped away from the fire to lean against a tree a little in the shadows, facing the direction of Cenred's castle.

He was meant to be watching the woods but his eyes kept on coming back to Merlin, half-lit by the dying fire. The lighting made the stitches stand out, black and thick. Arthur tried to keep his thoughts controlled, tried not to imagine Merlin's pain and humiliation. He could only hope that he felt some sort of relief being gone from that cavern and his tormenters.

Hours passed like that. The moon was high in the sky when Arthur moved from his position, body stiff. He went to sit by the fire for some time and was surprised when he saw that Merlin's eyes were open. He raised his eyes as Arthur approached.

Arthur sat beside him but far enough away so that Merlin could still see him.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

Merlin blinked.

"You never have trouble sleeping in on mornings when I have war councils or meetings with my father," Arthur said, trying to keep his voice light.

The corners of Merlin's eyes raised, as if he was smiling. Arthur smiled sadly back at him.

The joke was feeble, but he thought it might be a comfort to both of them. He soon realized it didn't make him feel any better, just brought back memories of the days when they had been together. For so many years his days began with Merlin and ended with him. He was so much a part of his life and he had never really realized it.

"What did they do to you Merlin..." Arthur said, staring into the fire now.

Arthur felt that familiar and terrible anger, barely held at bay as he remembered the way Merlin's entire body had struggled with the effort to just turn and look at Arthur. There was something so unnatural about the way he was stripped of his strength. Whatever spell or enchantment he was suffering ran deeper than he understood, and it scared him to death.

"You are going to get better, aren't you?" Arthur asked glancing at Merlin once more.

Merlin blinked again.

"I should probably stop asking you questions, shouldn't I?" Arthur said.

Merlin snorted.

That brought a genuine smile to Arthur's face and he stared in amazement at Merlin's shining eyes. That little ray of hope Arthur felt was reflected in Merlin's eyes. For the first time that day, Arthur felt his own despair ease just barely.

"We're going to fix you, Merlin," he said seriously.

Merlin held his gaze for a few moments before he blinked slowly and his eyes began to drift shut.

Arthur looked past their camp for the first time since he sat down and his heart jumped into his throat.

He immediately stood and unsheathed his sword.

Surrounding them were a dozen hooded figures standing silent as ghosts, watching the camp.

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><p><em>an: Yayyy Druids! Huzzah! I hope this made things a little more clear for you guys._

_The next chapter will take a little longer. It's written but I'm not gonna update till I finish my other story right now :/ give me a couple days and I'll have it for you! Also, I feel like the chapters will be completely random lengths. One of them coming up is pretty short and some will probably be longer._

_I got one vote for the slash direction... I have a chapter that's floating in my head which would end it very slashy but I cannot decide. I could always post this as possible pre-slash and write an epilogue that doesn't need to be read with it... Thoughts?_


	3. Chapter 3

_Stitches_

_3_

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><p>The sharp sound of Arthur's sword being drawn woke Gwaine and Elyean and they both stood at arms before they were even fully awake, gazing blearily at the figures surrounding them.<p>

"Show yourselves!" Arthur called, his voice ringing in the silent forest.

A gentle breeze seemed to ruffle through the forest and Arthur felt it shiver through his hair and he saw the way their hoods moved so gently in the wind.

"We mean you no harm," came the voice of a man who stepped forward in a dark cloak. He lowered his hood to reveal his face and Arthur immediately recognized him. He was the man who took Mordred from him all those years ago. A druid.

"I don't know that," Arthur said, his sword raised but his heart less sure of the threat.

"I told you once before, Prince Arthur," Iseldir said, "The druids are indebted to you. And we only wish to help."

Arthur faltered as the man took a step closer, only this time it was clearly towards Merlin.

"Don't!" Arthur said taking a step so he was standing between the man and his friend, fingers gripping his sword.

"Please," the man said. Arthur was not familiar with this man, but even so he thought he could hear something like fear behind his voice, "Please let us help him. His life is more important than you know."

That got Arthur's brain turning and that familiar feeling of something he was missing made his hair stand on edge. Arthur's sword shook just slightly as his grip tightened, "What do you mean?"

"Please, his wounds are deep. He might not make it to Camelot and you won't be able to release him from those chains without our help," Iseldir said. The rest of the druids had stood perfectly still, the wind making their cloaks move in a ghostly manner around their perfectly still bodies.

"What chains?" Gwaine asked, speaking up for the first time.

Iseldir turned to him, "They are not chains in the sense that you understand. They are chaining his spirit. Those bands on his arms will not be removed by anything less than magic."

He had expected nothing less, but the idea still felt like a punch in the gut. Arthur realized that both Elyean and Gwaine were staring at him, waiting for his reaction. This man had brought them no harm in the past, but they had had leverage that time.

"How do I know you won't hurt him?" Arthur asked, his heart pounding as he looked around at the men and women and what looked like children surrounding him.

"We would never harm him," Iseldir said. Arthur couldn't shake the feeling that he knew Merlin somehow. "You're just going to have to trust us," Iseldir said. "His life is very precious."

Arthur knew that... he knew that very well.

Despite himself, he couldn't keep himself from trusting this man. So Arthur dropped his sword and Gwaine and Elyean followed suit, conceding that he would defy his father if it meant Merlin's safety any day. He nodded slowly and Iseldir began to move towards his motionless body.

Iseldir approached Merlin and the other men who had come forward stood a safer distance away. He sat cross-legged beside him and placed a hand on his face.

They stared at each other for a long while in silence. The other druids stood patiently watching the scene with Arthur. After some time Iseldir nodded and he looked to his men who stepped forward at his silent command and gently lifted Merlin up and began carrying him away.

"Come, Prince Arthur," Iseldir said, walking beside him as they followed behind Merlin's body which looked ominously like a corpse the way they were bearing him on their shoulders. Gwaine and Elyean followed, making up the end of the strange procession.

After a half hour's walk they found themselves at the mouth of a cave with a gentle slope that took them further underground. Led by candles and torches, they walked through the passage until it opened up into the open space of a large cavern that was filled with similarly dressed druids, some of them sleeping and others sitting patiently and looking towards the mouth of the cave, maybe waiting for their return.

Merlin was placed on a stone table in the center of the camp. The men who bore him immediately retreated, leaving Iseldir and Arthur standing on either side of Merlin. Without any prompting a second man came to stand at Merlin's head.

He placed both of his hands on Merlin's forehead and began murmuring an incantation that could hardly be heard by even Arthur, who stood just next to him. Merlin's eyelids became heavy and his eyes began to roll back in his head slightly.

"What is he doing," Arthur asked panicking.

"Peace, my prince," said Iseldir, "It is only to relieve him of some of his pain."

Arthur faltered, and looked back at Merlin's eyes which were drifting shut now. "Is he in pain?" he asked looking back up.

Iseldir looked at him sadly, "I'm afraid he is."

Arthur felt Gwaine come to stand by his side and felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. Arthur glanced at him and Gwaine gave him a little smile before watching Merlin.

Arthur panicked when he saw Iseldir raise a knife from his robes and brought it to Merlin's face. His hand immediately went to his sword hilt but Gwaine squeezed his shoulder and he calmed for long enough to see Iseldir cutting the knots away at either side of his mouth where the wire ended.

He put the knife away and began to say something very quietly under his breath. His eyes burned bright and he began to pull the string slowly out of Merlin's flesh.

"You can't just-" Arthur began to say furiously, but he quieted himself when he saw what was happening.

As the other end of the string disappeared beneath Merlin's flesh, the wound closed itself with a glimmer and then settled to look exactly like Merlin's normal skin. Arthur watched in amazement as the end of the string reappeared from within his mouth and that hold closed itself as well.

Iseldir's eyes glowed gold throughout his enchantment until he had pulled out a foot of the wire, still covered in Merlin's blood, and he looked up at the Prince.

Arthur looked in amazement at Merlin. His lips were still chapped and a little bloody but there wasn't a mark on his skin where the wire had been.

He dropped the bloody wire and took up Merlin's wrists. He made to began speaking but the he stopped himself.

"You may want to stand a little further away," he said to Arthur and Gwaine. "This won't be as peaceful or painless," he said looking hard at both men. They stepped back a few paces to stand beside Elyean. Iseldir looked to them both, "I will be able to release him, however this enchantment is bound to his spirit and it will not yield easily. Please, you cannot interrupt the enchantment once it begins. If we have any hope of breaking it, you must let me finish."

Arthur's heart was sinking rapidly with each word. He was trusting Iseldir with so much, yet he had no other choice. He watched as the man at Merlin's head stepped away and Merlin's eyes blinked open. Iseldir turned Merlin's face towards his own and spoke to him in a quiet voice and Arthur couldn't hear the words that he spoke.

Merlin tried to speak several times, the noises he was making cut straight through Arthur and made his stomach writhe with fury and grief. Finally Merlin's sounds became words.

"H-he... ca... c-can't..." he was saying, each sound taking a huge effort.

"I know," Iseldir said, "We'll be able to speak freely once we've finished. Derryth?" he spoke out to the camp.

The smallest person any of the Knights Arthur had seen in the cave stepped forward and lowered her hood. She was a little girl of five or six and she had wide brown eyes and wild curly hair the color of oats.

"Derryth, you know what to do?" Iseldir asked.

She spoke in a little voice, "I think so..."

She stepped closer to Iseldir's side, looking nervously between him and Merlin and Arthur. "Once we are finished," Iseldir said, "I don't know what kind of wounds there will be. You must be ready. I trust that you will know what to do when the time comes."

She tried to look brave and nodded once. Iseldir smiled at her.

"You're going to put his life in the hands of a child?" Arthur asked, staring incredulously at Iseldir.

"She's a very powerful healer, sire," he replied without any further explanation.

"It's fine, trust them," Elyean said kindly from his side.

Iseldir took both of Merlin's wrists in his hands, and began muttering something quietly.

Arthur may have imagined it, but he felt like the air shifted as his eyes glowed with a fire he didn't understand. He breathed it in deeply and felt his lungs fill with some kind of unfamiliar energy.

For a full minute nothing happened, but then Merlin's eyes began to widen and roll back into his head. Arthur squeezed his eyes shut in panic, but pushed his fear down and opened his eyes to look at the scene again.

At first it sounded like Iseldir's words were echoing throughout the cavern, then Arthur realized that several other Druids were speaking with him. Two women stepped forward and stood on either side of Iseldir. They spoke the same words in unison and Merlin's eyes snapped shut.

Merlin's body seemed tense as a spring as his eyes squeezed shut and he breathed heavily through his nose. Arthur had no idea if he was conscious or if he was in pain and he felt the fear coil in his stomach as he continued to stare at the scene.

Then a horrible strangled gasp broke through the monotonous sound of the enchantments and Merlin's eyes flew open. His hands balled up into fists in Iseldir's grasp and his body began to shake. He stared sightless upwards, his mouth open in a silent scream.

Arthur instinctively made to go to him and Gwaine grabbed his arm and hauled him backwards. Elyean put a hand on his other arm just in case. Arthur stared with wide eyes at the terrible sight. Merlin's entire body was shaking violently and Arthur wanted nothing more than to stop it, stop whatever pain he was going through.

More druids stepped forward, their words growing louder with each repetition of the prayers. Arthur felt like the very air he was breathing was buzzing with some kind of life that was both drawing him towards the table and throwing him back as well. The energy was coming from the very air, from their words, from his own breath and Merlin's. The moment grew and Arthur watched in horror as Merlin's head began to thrash from side to side, trying to pull his hands free from Iseldir who was gripping them with white knuckles now. His feet were scrabbling the stone as his body began to convulse.

The more Merlin struggled the more Arthur tried to fight past Gwaine and Elyean who were forcibly keeping him from going to Merlin. He wasn't even conscious of himself fighting them, his whole mind was consumed with the terrible scene in front of him.

Hands from every side held his limbs down as Iseldir's voice rose above the others. His hands began to tremble around Merlin's bindings and he closed his eyes.

Arthur felt the breath leave him in a rush as he felt something shift. Merlin's whole body became still as stone and his head fell to the side, his eyes closed and his body unmoving.

Cold dread began to spread through Arthur at the sight. Merlin wasn't... he couldn't be... the Druids would have stopped if he was... but Arthur couldn't see the rise and fall of his chest and every limb was limp. He stood, limp in Elyean and Gwaine's grasp, no longer struggling.

_Don't you dare die,_ he thought desperately, willing him to live.

But then Merlin's whole body arched upwards away from the table with a choking sob and Arthur broke free from Gwaine and Elyean just as their chanting stopped and just as he felt like the air had calmed and he could breathe again.

Merlin's body slumped back down onto the table and his body began to relax. The druids began to step away from him. Arthur approached the table as they slowly disappeared on all sides into the shadows. Only the little girl and Iseldir remained, his hands still around Merlin's wrists.

Merlin's body was still trembling still but Iseldir was smiling, watching quietly as dust began to fall from beneath his fingers. The dust was black, but shimmering. Arthur stared in amazement as it disappeared in the air as it fell, never touching the table or Merlin.

"Is it done?" Arthur asked, his eyes fearful as he stared at Iseldir, "Will he be alright?"

"A-Arthur?"

Almost afraid to look, Arthur dropped his gaze to look at Merlin, who was blinking blearily at him.

He felt such immense relief hearing his voice. Arthur laughed happily and was embarrassed to say it sounded more like a sob as Merlin looked up at him.

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><p>an: Helloooo again folks! I feel this was a little too much bordering on an exorcism, but it felt right for what the chains did to Merlin (further explained later on, yes they did keep his magic away but it's more than that)

After many votes in both directions, I think I'm going to keep this story just friendship. But if you're itching for some slash, I'm ATTEMPTING to write a Merthur fic... a long and sad and smutty Merthur one shot about what was meant to be Arthur/Gwen's wedding night the first time around... never written smut before (IT'S TERRIFYING)

Thank you for the wonderful reviews advice and Happy New Years!


	4. Chapter 4

_a/n: Shortish chapter coming up here and in the next (I split it cause the chapter after that is giving me problems)... also it's like, a lot of Derryth in both chapters who is an OC so sorry if that bothers people :/_

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><p><em>Stitches<em>

_4_

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><p>Merlin smiled at him before his eyes closed, his head drifting to the side. Arthur's laughter died and he looked up worriedly at Iseldir.<p>

"He is fine, he is only resting," Iseldir said with a smile. He turned to the little girl who was looking up at him, waiting quietly. "Here, little one," he said and he held out Merlin's wrists to her.

The sight was gruesome. Where the chains had dug into his skin, there were deep gashes in the same pattern. When Iseldir took his hands away from the wounds they began to bleed freely and fast too. His own hands were covered in Merlin's blood but the little girl didn't seem troubled by it at all.

The little girl hoisted herself up onto the stone bench and knelt beside Merlin. She held his right wrist in both of hers. Arthur saw her tiny hands stain red as she cradled the wound without flinching at all. Merlin's other hand was bleeding on a clean cloth Iseldir had slipped under it.

She began to hum very softly to herself, her eyes closed. There were no words, not like the way that Iseldir had healed his mouth or the other Druid had eased his pain, only her song. Listening to it made Arthur relax despite himself and even as he watched her, even for only a moment or two, he noticed that the blood seemed to flow a little slower.

Entranced by the sight, he hadn't noticed Iseldir come to stand beside him. "You should rest Arthur, you are welcome to make camp here but know that Merlin will have to rest for several days."

"Thank you... I'm indebted to you," Arthur said, feeling lighter than he had since Merlin had been taken all those weeks ago. The combination of Merlin's smiling face only moments before and that sweet song drifting through his head seemed to heal him more than anything else could. He continued, "You're hospitality and help has been invaluable."

"You have shown us kindness in the past," Iseldir said, sharing in his joy. He began to leave but Arthur called him back.

"Wait," he called and Iseldir turned back to him. "Do you know why they did these things to him. The stitches... the bracelets... you must have known what those were for if you destroyed them," Arthur said, resisting the urge to just relish the moment rather than face the mysteries that still remained.

Iseldir looked hard at him, and then past him to where Merlin was lying unconscious. Arthur followed his gaze and saw that Gwaine was standing beside the table, watching the little girl work with a small smile on his face.

Iseldir turned back to Arthur, "I'm afraid I can't give you any full answers."

"Please," Arthur pleaded, "You said they were chaining his spirit. What did you mean?"

Iseldir's eyes fell, "They were what made him so weak."

"I understand that..." Arthur said, "But what were they? Were they magical?"

"Yes," Iseldir said, "They were bound to a very powerful enchantment."

"And the stitches," Arthur said, "Do you have any idea why they did that?"

Iseldir met Arthur's serious gaze and felt truly sorry he couldn't give him the answers he had. "I can't be certain of their motives," he said slowly.

Arthur looked at him for a long time after that, unsure of why he was so convinced that he was lying, but he couldn't shake the feeling. There was nothing sinister about this man, but there was some significance that he couldn't catch behind his words. Before Arthur could question him further, Iseldir spoke again.

"What do you call him?" he asked looking to Merlin again.

Arthur thought that was an odd way of asking for a name.

"Merlin," Arthur said, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Merlin..." Iseldir repeated.

"You didn't know?" Arthur asked, curious and trying to probe for information.

"Was I supposed to?" Iseldir asked calmly.

"You..." Arthur stopped himself, was he just imagining all of this? "You made it seem like you knew him... you said his life is precious," Arthur said, his voice growing back in confidence.

"All life is precious," Iseldir replied.

Then without any further explanation, Iseldir walked away towards a group of druids who were huddled around a fire.

Arthur stared and went back through his own feelings of suspicion and wondered if he had any justification for questioning his honesty or if he was simply making things up in his mind in a stressful situation.

He turned towards his companions with a shake of his head. The cave was warm and dry and Elyean was already lying down. They hadn't slept last night and Arthur, for the first time all day, felt the weight of his exhaustion.

He walked up to Gwaine at the table. He was watching the little girl work and listening to her quiet song. She kept looking up at him under her long eyelashes, her song wavering a little when she was caught looking.

The first wrist she had worked on was already looking better. Laying on the very bloody cloth that had only just held Merlin's other wrist. Arthur saw that the bleeding had stopped and parts of the gashes were covered in a thin layer of skin. She held the other wrist in her hand now and sang the same song.

When Arthur approached she gasped and her humming came to a stop. He smiled gently at her but she only stared with wide eyes, her hands trembling.

Gwaine looked to see what had stopped her and he noticed Arthur standing a little behind him.

"Come on, Princess," he said putting a hand on Arthur's shoulder, "You're making her nervous."

"Just a moment," Arthur said. He walked up to the table and looked down at Merlin's chest rising and falling at an even, healthy pace. It was a greater comfort then he could have imagined.

He turned his eyes to the little girl who was watching him. "Shouldn't you go to sleep? Like the rest of your camp?" he asked her kindly.

She shook her head quickly, making all her curls shake. "I need to heal him," she said in a small voice, "I'm not done."

"How long will it take?" Arthur asked.

"Not too long... he's helping me," she said, looking fondly at Merlin.

Arthur followed her gaze to Merlin's face and that familiar feeling came back. That feeling that he was missing something crucial, only this time it was so directly connected to Merlin he was surprised he hadn't seen it before.

"Are you really a prince?" she asked, her voice shy but pulling him out of his thoughts.

Arthur smiled at her, "Yes."

"Do you have a crown?" she asked, her shyness beginning to fade.

His smile grew, "Yes... a little one."

She smiled at him, "I'd like a crown."

Arthur breathed a laugh, "You will have one... for healing my friend I will have one made for you."

She beamed at him, "He's a prince too, right?" she asked, leaning forward eagerly, a tiny hand on Merlin's stomach, "Does he have a crown?"

Arthur laughed happily to himself. Her eyes were wide and shining and he couldn't help but wonder how this girl, despite her magic, could ever be dangerous.

"No, he's not a prince," Arthur said smiling.

Her face fell slightly, "But... I thought-"

Iseldir seemed to appear out of nowhere and put a hand on her shoulder and she quieted at once, her eyes rising to the man standing beside the table.

"I'm sorry Arthur, but we should let Derryth work. Merlin needs to recover," he said. Derryth looked guilty as she immediately took up Merlin's wrist again and began humming once more.

"You're right," Arthur said, "Goodnight, then."

He turned and Derryth's singing quieted, replaced by rushed whispering and Arthur turned his head just slightly trying to make out his words but they ended and Derryth began singing once more and his questions grew.

He went to lay beside Elyean and Gwaine, the former already asleep. Gwaine watched him approach.

"Do you think one of us should keep watch?" Gwaine asked.

Arthur thought about it for a moment, looking around at all of the Druids settling in small knots of people around little fires as they fell asleep. Iseldir was no where to be seen and the room was quiet except for Derryth's gentle song.

"I think we're safe," Arthur said, his eyes lingering on Merlin's unconscious body and the sweet little girl tending to his wounds.

_With magic..._ Arthur thought.

"Me too," said Gwaine, leaning back and letting his eyes linger on Merlin, "He's going to be okay, you know..."

"Yeah..." Arthur said, lying so the table was in his eyesight, "I know."

Despite his fears, his questions and his doubts, the exhaustion had caught up with him and he fell into a very deep sleep.

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><p><em>an: Ahhhh suspicious Arthur! I'm trying to make him less oblivious then he is in the show cause that always frustrates me... He definitely knows something is up in this fic._

_ALSO: In my mind, Gwaine is pretty in love with Merlin and is very jealous of how close Arthur and Merlin are. I'm trying to keep it out of this fic, but if it crops up in their dialogue you can kind of disregard it if it bothers you non-slashers_

_I'm super excited about this fanfiction because I'm going to try to get into the legends of Emrys and his place in Druid culture etc. I always have loved the very Messiah-esque myths surrounding him and I want to look into that._

_Thank you for the reviews! You're all wonderful!_


	5. Chapter 5

_a/n: Ahh! You are all so wonderful! I'm so glad this fic is getting a reaction like this!_

_I want to clear a few things up that came up in reviews for the last chapter. There were some positive/negative comments about my comment about Gwaine being in love with Merlin. It's not going to play any part in this fic at all unless you read a little more bitterness into his sarcasm (which I do but that's me). And I say again! Not Merthur! Just very very strong friendship in this!_

_Thank you GracefulLikeAGazelle for pointing out my misspelling of Elyan! I'm a little embarrassed about that and it would have bothered the crap out of me if I were reading it. I will fix that soon in past chapters_

_And yes :) it's a reveal fic_

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><p><em>Stitches<em>

_5_

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><p>Merlin woke up to a familiar song that drifted from his dreams into reality.<p>

He breathed deep and realized that it didn't hurt. In fact, he felt that little life chasing his breath from his lungs to the rest of his body and he breathed a satisfied smile as he felt alive for the first time in weeks. He had his magic. He could feel it all over, pulsing after being contained for so long.

Memories of the night before were fading in and out of his awakening mind. Arthur had rescued him and the Druids had taken him to heal him. He remembered the beginning of the purge of that enchantment and the very end, but most of it was a blur of fiery pain and blackness. That first rush of magic was almost unbearable, like an eruption of life in his chest that was more violent than anything.

The song stopped and he blinked his eyes open to the bright eyes of a little girl staring into his face. She smiled shyly at him, as he sat up a little to look at her closer.

"Hello," she said sweetly looking at him with kind eyes.

It took him a moment to remember that he could speak and then his hand flew to his mouth to feel where that hateful wire had been and realized that not only was it gone, but he could feel no marks or pain. Without thinking he looked up at the girl and beamed.

Smiling... how had he forgotten how wonderful it felt?

Feeling happy tears at the corners of his eyes he looked at the girl who was sitting next to him on the stone table. She was so small and Merlin's smile faltered when he saw how much blood was on her dress and on a dozen white cloths scattered around the table.

"Why are you sad, Merlin?" she asked. She had seen his tears and didn't understand.

"I'm not sad," he laughed and it made his heart dance in his chest and the feeling made him so recklessly happy. "I'm happy... I'm very, very happy. Do you know me?" he asked, unable to keep the goofy grin off his face. He was out, Arthur had rescued him and he felt like a new man.

"Everyone knows you, Emrys," she said, naturally mirroring his smile, "I didn't know you had more names before today."

He smiled a little to himself and sat up fully now, leaning back on his elbows, bracing himself for the pain but he felt nothing with the motion. He fought the urge to start laughing and never stop.

His shirt fell down a little and he realized it had been pushed up to his armpits to reveal his pale torso. He ran a hand up the side where he had been certain he had had at least 4 broken ribs. He pressed his fingers where he knew the bruises had been and felt the dullest of aches, as if the bruises had healed many days earlier and he could only just feel where they once were.

"How does it feel?" she asked nervously, "I wasn't quite finished with them before you woke up."

"You've done this?" he asked happily. She nodded, bashful, and Merlin smiled at her, "I'm indebted to you."

"No!" she squeeked, "I'm going to be able to say to my children that I healed the great Emrys, and they can tell their children. I was happy to do it." She paused and Merlin watched a blush creep into her young cheeks. "But... Prince Arthur promised he would make me a crown for helping you..." she said entirely bashful now. Merlin didn't know if it was the thought of the handsome prince or such a treasure that affected her more and the idea made his smile grow.

"I'll make sure he doesn't forget," Merlin assured her. She beamed and he laughed.

Speaking in and of itself was more of a blessing than he could have imagined. He had almost forgotten what his own voice sounded like. His smile grew and his happiness filled him as he took account of all his injuries that had been healed. The child watched him with a proud smile as he stared in amazement at his side. He caught her looking and said, "You're very talented... you must have very strong magic."

"Not as strong as yours," she said, blushing at the compliment, "But no one's is."

Merlin didn't feel like he had anything to say to that. He lifted his wrists and examined where those hateful bands had been. Where they had cut into his flesh were pale, white scars in the same pattern. Had he not known where the marks came from, he might have found them beautiful. He sighed, inwardly, feeling sure he would have a token of Morgause and Cenred's cruelty to carry with him for the rest of his life.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I couldn't do anymore. There's too much magic there and I couldn't get past it to heal the scars."

Merlin smiled at her sad voice, "Do not be sorry for anything. You've done so much for me."

She smiled but still looked sadly at his wrists, holding one in her small hands again. Merlin noticed for the first time that there was a significant amount of dried blood on her hands and arms as well. He wondered how severe his injuries had been before she had helped him.

She hummed that song again, so familiar to Merlin now even though he knows he must have been asleep the whole time she was singing it. But she stopped almost immediately and dropped his hand and let him rest it on his stomach with a shake of her head.

"I can't," she said, looking dejected.

"Doesn't the blood bother you?" Merlin asked taking her hand now and looking at where his own blood was staining her hands.

She shook her head still looking sadly at his wrist, "I've never been bothered by blood. I've always been healing."

"Always?" Merlin asked.

She nodded, "Iseldir says that they found me in the woods before I could speak. He said I had a baby bluejay in my hands that had fallen out of it's nest... and I was singing to it."

"As a baby?" Merlin asked, amazed.

She nodded, "He says he watched as the bird's bones healed and it began to sing with me. He gave the bird back to it's mother and then tried to find _my_ mother. But..." her voice faltered a little. Merlin watched such a small thing with such power and emotion and it was incredible but terribly sad as well. "But he found out that my mother and father had abandoned me because of my magic... so they left me in the woods to die."

The silence fell and she continued to stare at Merlin's wrists. She told the story with little affect but Merlin knew it was only her innocence as a child that had kept the truth from sinking in completely. He prayed her goodness would keep her from a life of bitterness.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said.

"It's okay. I have Iseldir now, and the rest of the camp as my family," she said smiling around at the sleeping camp, "They gave me a name and a life."

"And what is your name? You know both of my names and I don't even have one for you," he said.

"Derryth," she said taking her eyes away from his scarred arms.

"A pretty name," he said, "Thank you, Derryth."

She smiled and held her hands towards his side again, looking at him waiting for permission. He nodded and she placed her tiny hands on his side and began humming again. He looked around the room for the first time and spotted him almost instantly.

Arthur was lying on his left, sitting up against a stone, facing the table Merlin was lying on. He smiled at that and turned back to Derryth.

"How long have you been awake, Derryth?" he asked her.

She didn't stop humming, only shrugged and shifted her fingers a little further down his ribcage.

"No, please," Merlin said, "I feel fine. You should go to sleep."

She stopped humming and pulled her hands away, "I wouldn't be able to sleep anyways."

"Why not?" Merlin asked.

"I'd be able to feel your pain," she said. She shifted her fingers down a little more and prodded his skin where there had once been brutal bruises, "And I have to make sure you're alright, Emrys."

"You should call me Merlin," he said, "My friends don't know I'm magic and they only know me by Merlin. At least while they're here. Or only call me Emrys when we're not speaking."

Her eyes shifted away from Merlin's and she began poking at his ribs again. Merlin was so fascinated with this girl. It was strange watching such a tiny child working so dilligently.

"I can't do that."

"Can't do what?" Merlin asked.

"Talk in my mind... like the other Druids," she said avoiding his gaze, "I've never been able to. Iseldir says I have different magic..."

"Well, that doesn't matter," Merlin said, "You have an amazing power. Can you really feel my pain?"

She nodded, "It's how we found you. You were hurting everywhere... I could feel it," she said, her hands went to her side without her trying, "I couldn't bear it and I told Iseldir and he went to you."

Merlin nodded, "I'm terribly sorry you had to feel that."

"It doesn't hurt the way real pain does," she said, "It's like an imaginary pain... only I can't stop imagining it."

The thought made Merlin wonder what that could possibly feel like and whether that was a blessing or a curse. Already it had separated the girl from her family and it must be a terrible burden at times like this. But then again, magic was always a burden to some extent.

"It seems, that I owe you very much indeed," he said seriously. Her smile in reply was so sweet. "But I'm not hurting anymore, can't you sleep now?"

She shook her head, "I could try... but I would just lie there, probably. He hurts too."

"Who?"

"The Prince," she said. She raised her head to look at Arthur, sleeping a little ways away.

"Was he injured?" Merlin asked, the concern in his voice rising. He had assumed that Arthur had been fine after everything he had done, but if Arthur was injured he was sure to stubbornly push on with no regard to his own health.

"No," she said and she shook her head quickly.

Merlin stared at her, questioning. She finally caught his gaze and removed her hands from his side and laid them in her lap where she was still kneeling next to him.

"I've always been able to feel pain before," she said thoughtfully, "For as long as I can remember I could feel broken bones and illness and bruises, but I've never been able to feel _grief_ before he came."

Merlin stared at Arthur, his chest rising and falling beneath his chain mail. His sword was resting at his side, hanging loosely from his fingertips.

"Grief for who?" he asked, not trusting his suspicion.

She looked at him with her head cocked to the side, her shyness all but vanished at this point.

"You of course," she said.

He laughed, ashamed as he was that that was his reaction to Arthur's pain for him. It wasn't mocking, it was happy. He didn't know how he forgot moments like this. All the time he wondered whether what he did was appreciated, whether Arthur cared for him in any capacity. If he only took the time during his doubt to remember these times, these times when Arthur showed just how profound his emotions could be.

"I like him," she said after a long silence.

"Me too," he said, laying his head back down and letting Derryth take up her song once more. He tilted his head so that he could watch Arthur sleep as he drifted off himself.

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><p><em>an: Sorry for so much Derryth but I like her a bunch and she might have another couple scenes later_

_So the whole fic will probably 10 or 11 chapters total. Anyone noticed that our boys haven't even been able to have a proper conversation yet? Well no worries, they will be reunited soon enough :D_

_Thank you so much for the reviews! You're all fantastic!_


	6. Chapter 6

_a/n: **Readers!** I'm sorry to say I won't be updating for a little over a week, I'll have very limited internet access for probably the next week and a half but hopefully that means that I will have time to finish the story and I can update regularly once I come back home. So I'm sorry about that!_

_Unfortunately, this chapter was kind of rushed and I didn't get it where I wanted it because I wanted to update before I left. There's a good chance I'll rewrite this while I'm away._

_Again, thank you so much for the reviews! I read and appreciate each one and love you all!_

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><p><em>Stitches<em>

_6_

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><p>The next time Merlin woke it was to a different smiling face.<p>

Gwaine was sitting on the table, one leg dangling off the edge as he ate a piece of bread and smiled at something Merlin couldn't see.

"Gwaine!" Merlin exclaimed.

The man nearly jumped out of his skin at the shout but his look of surprise quickly turned to one of joy as he stood and turned so that he could look at Merlin properly.

"Well look at you all pretty again," Gwaine said, the smile on his face infectious.

Merlin could feel himself beaming at him and was once again acutely aware of how wonderful something as simple as smiling could feel. He would never take a smile for granted again.

"Where's Arthur?" Merlin asked.

"Ugh," Gwaine groaned but he was still smiling like an idiot, "That's always the way with you two. I pull off a fantastic rescue mission and you're looking for Arthur before I get any thanks."

Merlin slapped him lightly on the arm and swung his legs around so that he could stand properly next to Gwaine. His legs were a little wobbly, it was the first time he had stood in a few weeks he realized but Gwaine steadied him. Merlin turned the motion into a hug easily enough and Gwaine returned it with a chuckle.

"Easy there, don't want princess getting jealous," Gwaine said holding Merlin's smaller frame.

Merlin shook with laughter and happiness in his arms. "Thanks Gwaine," he said pulling away.

"Any time, Merlin," Gwaine said letting Merlin slip from his arms.

Merlin leaned against the table for support as he looked around for that familiar blonde head but was greeted instead by Elyan who clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Glad to see you're back," he said to Merlin, eyes shining.

"Glad to be back," Merlin said happily.

"Where's-"

"Hunting," Gwaine interrupted him, "He's decided he won't take any more hospitality from these people and had insisted on finding dinner for the camp."

"Arthur's going to get dinner for a _Druid camp_..." Merlin said, his voice disbelieving.

"It would appear so," Gwaine said. "He gets surprisingly cooperative when your safety is on the line," he said with a smirk.

Merlin ignored the comment and the rush of affection for Arthur it brought with it. He rather focused on the fact that Arthur seemed to be so open to these sorcerers.

"He was a little put out when he was told that most Druids don't eat meat," Elyan said with a laugh.

Merlin smiled at that. "That will turn him off Druids forever, I'm afraid," he said and Gwaine laughed.

"Merlin!" came a shout from the mouth of the cave.

Merlin looked up to see Arthur, grinning like an idiot with an entire deer slung over his back and standing in the mouth of the cave. He dropped it rather clumsily with a sickening crunch and maneuvered his way through the Druids to where Merlin was leaning against the table.

Without much warning he pulled Merlin away from the table into a crushing hug. Merlin let out a huff of air as the breath was knocked out of him.

"Let's not break him, Arthur," Gwaine said smiling at the scene.

Arthur completely ignored him and didn't loosen his grip even slightly. Merlin wanted to laugh and hit him and squeeze him at the same time. Arthur breathed a laugh that tickled Merlin's neck and finally let go of him, holding him at arms length by the shoulders.

"You're alright," he said, beaming.

"Thanks to you three," Merlin said, but he didn't take his eyes off of Arthur to indicate the other two. Merlin really only ever had eyes for him.

The eye contact lingered for a moment in one of those moments when neither of them knew how much affection was allowed. In this particular case, neither of them knew of any words important enough, and even if they did know they wouldn't use them anyways.

"I'm really glad you're alright," Arthur said as he stared happily at Merlin's smiling face. His eyes lingered on his mouth which looked like it always had. That image wouldn't be one he would forget easily.

"Yes, well," Merlin said, "You too. That was pretty stupid of you."

"Excuse me?" Arthur said, Merlin's comment effectively ruining the moment.

"As funny as it is to continuously snatch Cenred's prisoners from right under his nose, I think you're starting to push your luck," Merlin said, his voice teasing but his words sincere.

"Yes, well," Arthur said, his voice a little challenging, "It went off fine. You're safe and we came out uninjured"

"Speak for yourself!" Gwaine cut in. Merlin turned to Gwaine for the first time since Arthur had come in.

"What happened?" Merlin asked raking his eyes over Gwaine's body trying to find some kind of injury.

"Just a scratch," Arthur commented.

Merlin shot him a glare before he turned back to Gwaine who was smiling at the exchange. "It really was just a scratch," he assured Merlin, "That pretty child patched me up well enough," he said rolling his shoulder.

"You're sure you're okay?" Merlin asked staring hard at Gwaine.

Gwaine smiled fondly at him. "I'm not the one we should be worrying about, Merlin," Gwaine said, clearly indicating that Merlin had been in a far worse condition.

"I'm fine," Merlin assured them, "But you could have died," Merlin said, seriously still staring at Gwaine though he felt Arthur's eyes on him. "You all could have," he added turning to meet his gaze.

Arthur rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, "Did you really think we'd leave you to die after we found out you were alive?"

He was about to reply but that caught him off guard. He paused with his mouth open before he closed it and considered the thought. "You thought I was dead?" Merlin asked quietly, selfishly wondering how Arthur had reacted to that.

Arthur hesitated, his eyes darkening and face hardening. When he spoke, it was a sad attempt at sarcasm, "Yes, well... that's the usual conclusion when someone has been missing for several weeks at a time."

Merlin heard everything behind those words. He didn't know if Gwaine or Elyan could, but he had a vague idea of what Arthur might have been feeling for the past month if the pain in his voice was any indication. And ridiculously, Merlin felt guilty.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said quietly.

And suddenly it was too intimate. They both were suddenly acutely aware of Gwaine and Elyan's presence and it was strangely suffocating.

Things like that happened when you spend the vast majority of a friendship alone. You're less aware of what you're friendship really is or what it really means because you don't have to be so aware of it when no one is watching; you can just let it be. Merlin always wondered in moments like this if there were moments they completely looked over that might be considered out of the ordinary to a third party.

Arthur managed to speak after a moment's tense silence. "There's nothing to be sorry for," he murmured.

Merlin ignored the rush of guilt and felt like they needed to get this back to something appropriate for public. "Yes, well that makes one of us..." Merlin said, abruptly changing the atmosphere with his teasing voice, "Bringing a dead deer into a Druid camp? Really Athur? You wreak of blood."

Arthur's face softened a little and he looked back at the carcass that had been given a wide berth by the camp. "Yeah," he said with a little laugh, "I guess I'll bring that outside."

"I can help," Merlin volunteered sensing that Arthur would want to talk alone, and if truth be told he wanted to be alone too.

"You can't help, you're weak," Gwaine said putting a hand on Merlin's shoulder when he made to walk away.

"I haven't been able to walk for a month Gwaine..." Merlin said seriously, "I'd like to take advantage of that."

"He knows what he can do," Arthur said offering Merlin a hand but Merlin waved it away. However after the first few steps he dropped a heavy hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"Always overestimating yourself," Arthur said, "Nothing's changed there."

Merlin chuckled and leaned heavily on Arthur for a few steps, more for balance than for strength. After a moment or two his steps were more confident and he walked on by himself next to Arthur. Arthur threw the deer over his shoulder when they reached it and they made their way out of the cave.

It was weird, to be together so casually again. It was one of those things that was familiar and new at the same time. Merlin was experiencing a lot of those things that day he realized and the thought made him want to laugh again and he had to suppress that giddy joy once more.

They walked on in companionable silence for a time, neither of them knowing where or how to begin.

"How did you know where to find me?" Merlin asked finally, breaking through the quiet of the forest. He figured he had a dozen questions, may as well start with an easy one.

"Cenred told us..." Arthur said with a shrug. He dropped the carcass on the ground once they found their way to a big enough clearing in the woods. "Sit, I'll get some firewood," he said.

Merlin sat in the grass and watched as Arthur scoured the edge of the clearing for dry branches and twigs. "He told you?" Merlin asked, confused, "How do you mean?"

"He sent us a note," Arthur said distracted, but Merlin suspected that his distraction had more to do with his own thoughts rather than gathering firewood.

"Saying that I was his prisoner?" Merlin asked, his heart rate picking up. Cenred and Morgause both knew about his magic and one word to Arthur could have revealed that fact. But if that were the case, Arthur wouldn't have rescued him.

"Among other things..." Arthur said, his expression unreadable as he evaded the question. Merlin's heart jumped into his throat at those words.

His mind began to race. Did he know? Had he only rescued him to keep him away from Cenred as a weapon? Had he gotten Merlin alone just so he could kill him? He began carding through a hundred possibilities, all of them scarier than the last and all of them making his heart pick up.

But there was another nagging feeling. He was unsure, but Merlin thought it might have been relief. Because maybe the years of wondering were about to come to an end. Maybe Arthur really knew him for who he was. It didn't mean he accepted it, but at least he was done hiding, done lying to one of the few people who mattered.

"Merlin," Arthur said seriously. Merlin almost flinched at the name as the adrenaline continued to pulse through him. Caught in his thoughts, he had failed to notice Arthur crouch right beside him. "Merlin," he repeated. He was fixing Merlin with a searching gaze that made him feel like Arthur had stripped him and could see every lie he'd ever told, "I need you to tell me something."

Merlin's throat felt like it was closed up as each breath became a little shallower. He trained his features however and said, "Tell you what?" with as much calm as he could manage.

Arthur hesitated, staring at the dead leaves between his knees, then he looked up at Merlin, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth partially open.

"What?" Merlin asked, desperate to get it over with.

He let out a rush of breath, "Did they touch you?"

Merlin's brain seemed to do a complete 360 and his thoughts got too jumbled for him to understand what he meant in the slightest. "Touch me?" he asked.

"Yes..." Arthur said, just as serious as before, "Did they... hurt you?"

And he realized all at once what he meant and felt like he might start crying from the huge rush of relief that fogged his brain for half a second. Then it sunk in and a terribly dirty feeling began to sink in his stomach at the idea.

"No," he breathed, looking at Arthur.

Arthur stared and didn't take his eyes away from Merlin's, "Because if they did-"

"They didn't," Merlin cut him off and Arthur fell silent.

He stared at Merlin for a moment before he began to set up the firepit, his face making it clear that it was still very much on his mind. Merlin was once again amazed to see how much it affected him.

"It's just..." he began and it took him a moment or two for him to gather the courage to finish his sentence, "It's just you were naked..."

Merlin felt the blush creep into his cheeks as the familiar humiliation hit him. There had been some badly-veiled threats once Merlin was incapacitated entirely but he was immensely grateful that Cenred and some of his more vile companions had never followed through with it.

"It was just to humilite me, Arthur," Merlin said in a calm and would-be-soothing voice. Strange how he was the one comforting Arthur. "Once they put those bands on me they did all of those things, the bed, the food and wine, just to make it all the more humiliating. It was just a stupid stunt," he tried to assure Arthur.

Arthur sat back and crossed his legs, abandoning the firepit.

"I don't understand..." Arthur muttered, his face still troubled.

"Don't understand what?" Merlin asked, resisting the urge to put a hand on Arthur's arm, anything to get that look off his face.

"All of it," Arthur snapped throwing the piece of wood he had in his hand into the pile of twigs, effectively collapsing it. "Why did they do this to you? You're just a damn servant and yet their torture was rather... thorough," he said in bitter sarcasm.

Merlin sat there, unsure what he could say.

He wanted so badly to be able to say to Arthur what had actually happened. He wanted more than anything not to lie anymore. But he couldn't tell him how he had escaped after two weeks without any sign of rescue using magic. He couldn't tell him how, despite his powers, someone had knocked him out from behind and he had awoken with his lips sewn together. He wanted to cry and tell him how terrified he had been when he had realized what they had done to him and how he was so scared he would never be able to speak again. He couldn't tell Arthur how that terror had quickly turned to fury which fueled his next escape. They had underestimated his power. He didn't need words to use magic, and he unleashed it in ways he hadn't the first time, only to be stopped by Morgause.

He had thought that he knew fear when he woke up from the first escape, but this had been an entirely different kind of horror. When he woke up the second time, he felt like he had been stripped of half his being. It had been horrible. It left him feeling hollow and that empty space was filled with his own despair when he realized what had happened. It only got worse when he realized he couldn't move. He wasn't surprised because that little life fueled him more than anything.

But he couldn't tell Arthur any of this, and the lies had to pile even higher.

"You know me Arthur..." he said, ashamed at how easy the comforting smile came to his lips as he lied to his friend, "You don't think I was a cooperative prisoner do you?"

Merlin watched as Arthur's face fell into a look of disbelief and annoyance, "You idiot... what the hell did you do?"

"Well..." Merlin said, his head working faster than he gave it credit for, "I talked back mostly. I wouldn't stop and kept on talking them down until one day they must have put something in my food because I passed out pretty soon after. When I woke up..."

"No..." Arthur said, his eyes mirroring Merlin's pain, only Arthur's was from grief and Merlin's was from guilt. How he managed to lie to him like this was a mystery. It tore him up.

"And a few days later I..." Merlin's mind came to a logical solution quick enough, "I kicked a guard where it hurt and he beat me unconscious. I woke up with those bracelets on and I couldn't move." He was surprised by how emotionless he sounded. He knew it wouldn't fool Arthur into thinking he wasn't affected, but it would fool him enough.

"God Merlin," Arthur said in a voice that surprised Merlin with it's sincerity, "You must have been so scared."

It was a simple thought, but in reality it summed it up. He had been scared... terrified really. The blackness in that hole spread further than the dark, Merlin felt it all the way through him. Those bracelets made him feel like he was filled with empty blackness and Arthur had been his light.

He was still reeling at Arthur's reaction to the entire situation. He remembered what Derryth had said about being able to feel Arthur's grief and it chased away that dirty feeling, replacing it with a familiar warmth and affection for his friend. He feared he had underestimated his part in the Prince's life.

"Yeah," Merlin said, noncommittally despite the fact that Arthur's concern made him happier than he would ever admit.

Arthur sat in thought for several minutes. Merlin stared determinedly at the non-fire which was still just a pile of sticks. He knew that Arthur was looking at him but he chose not to see that pity in his eyes.

"It still doesn't make sense though..." Arthur said.

"What doesn't?" Merlin said. He began sorting through possible discrepancies that might involve his magic and trying to find solutions to them before Arthur had a chance to say which was actually bothering him.

"The note..." Arthur said, "It made it seem..." Merlin could tell by his eyes that he was a little far away. He waited for Arthur to speak but Arthur pulled himself out of his thoughts and rummaged in one of his pants pockets and pulled out a worn scrap of paper. He read it through, eyes barely resting on a word and he nodded, handing the paper to Merlin.

Merlin noticed that there was a bloody tear through the center of the parchment and the script was around it. The paper was soft and crumpled, like it had been read too many times. Merlin didn't linger on the thought of how many times Arthur probably gone over these words and instead read the script itself.

_Never knew how talented your servant was. Now I know only too well why you kept him so close to you all this time. I'm sure his gifts have come in handy, but he's mine now. I'm sure I'll find some use for him once we can get dear Merlin to behave himself._

_-Cenred_

The first time Merlin read it, he read it as he would interpret it. His mind was telling him that Arthur couldn't have understood those words for what they really were, but it didn't keep that terrible fear from his mind.

But the second time, he saw what Arthur had seen. That creeping feeling came back as his eyes lingered on the words 'talented,' 'mine' and most particularly 'behave.' He let his eyes stay on the page for longer than he meant, not wanting to look up at Arthur and have to acknowledge what he had assumed Merlin had been suffering.

"It's not what it seems," Merlin said, his eyes still on the note.

"Would you tell me if it was?" Arthur asked.

The question caught Merlin off guard and he looked up to meet Arthur's stare. His eyes were serious and his jaw was set. This was paining Arthur as much as himself, he kept forgetting that. But Merlin seriously considered the question. Would he admit to such shame? Would he willingly let Arthur know what kind of humiliation he might have suffered if that note had implied the truth?

"Yes," Merlin said, but his voice sounded weak, even he heard it.

Arthur looked at Merlin for a long time before he let his gaze drop away.

"You wouldn't," Arthur muttered.

"I would," Merlin assured him.

Arthur shook his head, "You would have kept it from me for my sake, not yours."

Sometimes Merlin was amazed at how well Arthur knew him despite his general attitude of disinterest.

"You wouldn't tell me so I wouldn't put myself in danger," Arthur said with the bored air of something he was reciting.

"Probably," Merlin said and felt the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Arthur looked up and breathed a laugh before he let his smile fade into something serious again.

"You shouldn't do that..." Arthur said.

Merlin didn't think he had a reply to that.

They sat there, silent in their thoughts that were primarily of each other. They would both be the first to admit that they had something very different in their friendship, and at the moment they were just grateful that they hadn't lost that... grateful they hadn't lost each other.

Merlin watched as Arthur shift his weight after a period of comfortable silence.

"I'm sorry..." Arthur said and Merlin felt Arthur's hand on his knee.

"For what?" Merlin asked, eyes resting on his hand for half a moment before he looked at his face, completely unreadable.

Arthur took his hand back and sat up to finish prepping the fire.

"For not coming sooner," he said, keeping his hands busy to hide the tiny tremble in them.

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><p><em>an: Alright folks! They finally spoke! Huzzah! Gonna definitely go through this again and make some changes but here it is for now._

_See you all in a weekish! Thank you for all the reviews and support!_


	7. Chapter 7

_a/n: Remember that time when I was a bitch and didn't update for months and months? I'm really terribly sorry about that and I have no real excuse for it. I've been in a weird fanfiction mode where I update something nonstop (by my standards) before heartlessly abandoning it for a time before I come back to it and finish it up. _

_Anyways, shit's about to get real. I don't know about you, but I'm excited._

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><p>There are times when you have a decision to make and you think about it, agonizing over every possible result and scenario in which you could go wrong. This was how Merlin had been living for so many years, desperately hoping The Moment would just present itself to him when he had to make what might become the most important decision of his life.<p>

But then there are other times when you're mind is working beneath the surface. There are times when you are steeling yourself to do something and you didn't even realize it and all of a sudden, the decision shifts into your consciousness and no matter what you do, you can't shake it.

Merlin could hardly believe his eyes as he watched him. He spoke with Iseldir with the same regality and manners he would use with any other person of importance. He stood by and asked questions politely as another healer checked on Merlin's wounds. He watched from a distance as a group of younger Druids sat around an ancient looking warlock telling a fairytale. Merlin saw the way his eyes lit up as the characters actually came to life as shapes in the light of the flames they sat around, shimmering and beautiful.

If Merlin didn't know that this was real, that that was truly Arthur and this was really happening, then he might have thought it a strange dream or an enchantment. But it was true, Arthur was really here in this Druid camp. He was really speaking to warlocks and magicians and Merlin was overwhelmed by the kindness Arthur was showing to these people he had considered corrupt, evil and less than human.

Maybe... just maybe...

Merlin shook the thought from his head as he walked over to where Arthur sat now. He was sitting cross-legged with Derryth. The little healer was sitting eagerly up on her knees so they were at eye-level and was trying to convince him to sing.

"I don't sing!" he insisted while he laughed. He spotted Merlin approaching the two of them and his face brightened, "You know who is a great singer though..."

"Don't even say it," Merlin said anticipating the suggestion as he sat beside the two of them.

"No! Merlin is a great singer," Arthur insisted clapping a hand on Merlin's shoulder who tried to glare but found the smile creeping back on his face. He was finding it impossible to keep the happiness and sheer relief from overwhelming him every time he remembered where he was, who he was with and what he had escaped.

"You sing?" Derryth asked, her eyes bright and innocent.

"No," Merlin said, "I'm afraid I don't. I'd like to hear you sing though."

"Yes, sing for us and if we know the song we'll join in," Arthur said smiling at Derryth.

She looked down at her feet, suddenly bashful. "What should I sing?" she asked timidly. She peeked up at Arthur from under her lashes.

"Whatever you like to sing best," Arthur said, his smile never fading.

Merlin wondered at it. The ease with which Arthur was living his days with these people had yet to prove any less amazing to Merlin.

Derryth nodded and smiled a little. She sat up a bit and cleared her throat before she began to sing.

From the moment the music began Merlin couldn't help from smiling.

_Where you go so late said the knight on the road_

No two spells feel the same and Merlin had learned that he could never be surprised. Sometimes it was a crack, a tiny explosion that used you as a vessel. Other times it was so faint and subtle that you hardly knew if you had done it properly. Magic was as organic as the world itself and Derryth wasn't an exception.

_I'm going to meet my god said the child as he stood_

Whatever magic was in her voice was nothing short of wonderful. It built very slowly in everyone who listened. It began with just this comfortable warmth in the very center of your being, somewhere between your heart and your stomach. Then it spread the way a shiver does when you're cold, like a jolt down your skin spreading all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes except it was exceptionally warm and spread slowly so that you could almost follow the magic dancing across your skin.

_And he stood and he stood and it was well that he stood_

Merlin wondered if Arthur could feel it, if he knew how much magic was in his own being without him ever realizing it.

_I'm going to meet my god said the child as he stood_

Derryth finished the verse and opened her mouth to continue when there was a flurry of movement somewhere in camp. She stopped singing and beamed as she saw the Druids gathering around the central fire.

"Dinner!" she exclaimed and she took Merlin's hands and began walking him towards the center of camp with the others as Arthur followed closely behind.

fdsjkafakls; fjklsda jfklsa; dfkl; jsakl;f jksal jdfklsa jkfl;as jk;fla

When Merlin woke up the next morning, he knew exactly what he was going to do. At first he imagined he had worked it out in his sleep, but when he really thought about it he had decided long before his eyes closed last night. He sat up and looked to see Arthur, still asleep but as he watched he turned so that he was facing Merlin, eyes still shut.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked, unsure whether he was actually awake or just shifting in his sleep.

"Mm?" Arthur hummed sleepily.

"Will you take a walk with me?" Merlin asked. He felt Gwaine shift on his other side and felt his gaze on him but ignored it.

Arthur's eyes opened blearily and he looked at Merlin warily. "Is something-" he yawned, "-the matter?" Arthur asked, sitting up as well now.

Merlin didn't know how to answer that. _Yes, there's been something the matter since we first met, _he wanted to say.

"Just come," Merlin said, standing now. He had gotten significantly more stable on his feet since the morning before and he felt even more confident now with a full night's rest. He began to make his way through the maze of bodies between them and the mouth of the cave.

He felt like he was in a better position to do what he was about to do then he ever had before, but it didn't seem to calm his heartbeat at all. Arthur's heavy footsteps behind him did nothing to calm his nerves and he was acutely aware that Arthur had his sword by his side.

He tried to wipe those thoughts from his head as he stepped out into the early morning light. The sky was visible in patches between branches and leaves as the sky lightened and hid the last few stars that were fading.

He felt Arthur fall into stride beside him but didn't have the courage to meet his eyes which he could feel on him. Instead he focused on the still dark forest floor, trying not to trip.

Merlin had always suspected that he really imagined his own importance in the Princes life, and this was probably going to be the ultimate test of that and their friendship as a whole.

Merlin supposed his reaction would give him some insight on the matter, but then again who was to say which reaction would imply more intimacy? On one hand, if Arthur cared for Merlin he might be willing to get past this, to work through it and find a way to create some semblance of normalcy in their relationship even though Merlin had been lying all these years.

But then again, maybe it might mean more if he was so hurt he couldn't get past it. Wouldn't it be a testament to their friendship if a lie meant that much that it hurt him that much?

"What's going on, Merlin?" Arthur asked, stopping his pace as they reached a small clearing.

Merlin stood a little ways in front of him with his back turned to him. Merlin thought this would all be a hell of a lot easier if his heart wasn't pounding in his rib cage rather uncomfortably. He took a deep, steadying breath and turned to Arthur.

Arthur's face was half-obscured in shadow, but Merlin could make out the worry marring his features. This wasn't really fair of him to keep him wondering like this, but then again he had never been fair to Arthur. Can you really be fair if you're lying to someone?

"I need to talk to you about something," Merlin said. He was embarrassed by how small his voice sounded when the forest swallowed the sound.

Arthur raised his shoulders and said, "Well... talk." He sounded unworried, casual, but Merlin could hear the layer of uncertainty beneath his tone.

For the thousandth time he wondered if this was the right thing to do. This could ruin everything he had created, all the progress he had managed. He had began to consider Arthur a friend... best friend if truth be told. Whether Arthur saw him as anything more than a servant was another matter entirely. And even with all they'd been through and all they still had to do, he'd never be able to fulfill their destinies if they didn't do this at some point.

If he was being honest, he selfishly wanted this to be over for his own sake. The torture of keeping up the act, of hiding who he was and always waiting for the lie to crash in on him had become more than he could bear. He could almost convince himself that he would be happier whichever way Arthur reacted.

But that didn't quell the fear that Arthur would hate him or that desperate hope that they could make it through this together.

It was that entirely selfish drive that forced the next words out of his mouth before he could think.

"What would you do if I lied to you?" Merlin asked. He didn't even bother to try to make his voice sound casual. What use was it to sugar-coat the biggest lie of his life and their friendship.

Arthur stood there for a moment, just staring at Merlin completely at a loss. He was standing a ways away in the clearing and his eyes were shining with too much emotion. The shadows of the trees were moving on the ground as the sun climbed higher in the sky and the birds began to wake up, adding their song to the sound of the blood rushing in Merlin's ears.

"I suppose," Arthur began awkwardly, not sure how he was supposed to approach this, "it would depend how bad the lie was."

Merlin was staring at the ground between them as he listened to Arthur's response. Some twisted part of his brain gave him the urge to laugh at that, but he resisted. How bad? What an absurd question.

"About as bad as it can be..." Merlin said, slowly raising his eyes up to Arthur's face to see that his face had fallen into something that was more worried than suspicious and it just made Merlin's stomach twist into knots with guilt.

"Merlin..." Arthur said quietly taking a step towards him and Merlin actually took a fleeting step backwards. Arthur stared, his eyebrows furrowed. "Merlin," he repeated, his voice more forceful now, "What's going on?"

Merlin took a deep, quivering breath and just stared at the look of concern on Arthur's face. "Have you done something?" Arthur asked, "If it happened while you were in the dungeons, you can't expect anyone to blame you if you hurt anyone-"

"It wasn't," Merlin interrupted him, "It wasn't... no, none of that." What made it worse was how worried Arthur was, assuming he was confessing to hurting someone else. Merlin shouldn't be surprised that it never once occurred to Arthur that _he_ was the one who had been hurt.

"Then what is it?" Arthur said and he gave a nervous laugh even though his anxiety was rising with every moment Merlin avoided the question. "You're the one who wanted to talk to me and you won't say anything," he said.

Merlin felt like he was suffocating as the lump in his throat grew. He didn't know if he'd be able to speak for much longer without breaking into choking sobs but he managed to force the words out.

"I told you that..." his voice was so quiet, cracked and weak as he tried desperately to maintain some composure, "I told you that they sewed my mouth together because I talked to much."

Arthur's chin dropped as he surveyed Merlin, finally speaking in words he could understand. "Yes..." he said dubiously, dragging the word out.

"Well," Merlin said lifting his chin, "I lied."

Arthur shifted his feet and crossed his arms, his sword bumping against his legs as he did so. He noticed how Merlin's eyes flicked down to the weapon and back up to Arthur's eyes for just a second.

"Well..." Arthur said when Merlin didn't continue, "Are you going to tell me what really happened?"

Merlin smiled wryly at him even as he felt his eyes pool with tears. "Can't you see?" Merlin said and it was more of a broken whisper than anything. So many clues that Arthur could have picked up on and never did he see, never did he even _think_...

Arthur stared at him, his eyes more serious than before as he tried desperately to understand. "No, Merlin, I don't," he said forcefully, "It would help if you bothered to speak plainly instead of talking in riddles!"

"The note!" Merlin cried, too desperate for Arthur to know to be wary of his actions, "It's all there if you would just _see_!"

That got Arthur's heart beating rather violently in his chest. He was the one who took a step backwards this time and he lifted a shaking hand to wipe down his face.

"Are you saying..." Arthur began, his voice quavering, "That he _was_... doing those things-"

"No!" Merlin cried, still humiliated by the assumption that had sent Arthur riding to his rescue. "Just... do you remember what it said?" Merlin asked holding his hand out to Arthur, like reaching out to him might help him to understand.

"Yes," Arthur said harshly, "I remember very vividly."

"But, you didn't understand it," Merlin said earnestly, "You just saw what you wanted to see."

"What I _wanted_ to see?" Arthur almost shouted.

"That's not what I- damn it!" Merlin spun on his heel in frustration and dragged his fingers through his hair. "Gods, Arthur!" he cried, "Why can't you just understand!"

"Because you won't explain!" Arthur shouted back at him and advanced a few steps and once more Merlin took those hasty steps backwards, too dependent on that cushion of empty space between them.

Arthur stopped immediately and couldn't hide the hurt. He didn't know what was worse, the fact that Merlin was retreating from him or the fact that there was something so serious that Merlin felt the need to back away.

"Merlin," his voice was desperate, "please tell me." Merlin shook his head and one of the tears finally fell. "Please..." Arthur said, taking a careful step towards Merlin who found the courage to stay where he was. "You're scaring me," Arthur said and he took another step towards him.

He reached both of his arms out slowly and Merlin eyed them but, amazingly, didn't move away. Merlin felt the weight of Arthur's heavy hands like they were made of lead resting on his shoulders.

He flicked his eyes up to Arthur's. He didn't know what it was that finally had those words spilling from his mouth but something about the look Arthur was giving him caught him off guard and before he knew it, he had said it.

"I have magic."

No turning back now.

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><p><em>an: Sooooooooooo yeah. Here it comes. The next one's gonna be the real deal. _

_You know when authors say 'Oh yeah, I already wrote the next chapter so it'll be up soon' when they haven't started it mostly as a means to motivate themselves to write so they're not liars. Well I ACTUALLY wrote the next chapter because originally, it was all one chapter that was going to be posted together but I thought I'd throw a little cliffy in there for funsies. You know, to punish all you readers who were too nice and patient with me and actually came back to read this after I abandoned you :D_

_So next chapter up in the next 3 daysish probably so I can get a headstart on the next chapter (which I anticipate will be a really hard one) and make the conversation really good (hopefully)_


	8. Chapter 8

_a/n_: Insert obligatory apology for the late update here: _I'm a bum! I'm sorry! Forgive me please! 

_And without further ado... :)_

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><p><em>Stitches <em>

_8_

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><p>"I have magic."<p>

No turning back now.

Everything went still for one heart-stopping moment and Merlin watched, as if in slow motion, as the truth came to life behind Arthur's eyes. Arthur's grip on Merlin's shoulders tightened by degrees until his fingers were digging into his skin.

"That's not funny," Arthur said in a dangerous whisper.

"It's not meant to be," Merlin said, his voice wavering with emotion and a terrifying anticipation, incomparable to anything he had ever felt before. Something had come to life in his stomach and was trying to claw it's way up his throat as he tried to breath around it.

Arthur stared, his grip never slackening, and Merlin met his gaze with as little fear as he could manage.

"Tell me you're lying, Merlin," he said. His voice was shaking now too and Merlin could hear the fear lacing his words.

Merlin shook his head, lips trembling. "I can't," he said in a way that made it clear just how desperately he wished that he could.

There was a split second when Merlin saw Arthur's face turn from fear to doubt and finally to rage and his fingers dug into his shoulders for just a moment before he shoved him away from him, sending Merlin stumbling backwards.

Arthur spun around and both hands flew up to run his hands through his hair. He took a few steps then stood there, hands fisted in his hair, and didn't move. Merlin could see his shoulders rising and falling as Arthur took deep steadying breaths.

"The stitches..." Arthur said, more to himself than anyone else. When he said it out loud now to himself, he felt like he could bash his head into a wall for not seeing it. _To keep him from speaking,_ how stupid could he be?

"Yes," Merlin said, voice wavering.

"The stitches..." he repeated, not seeming to hear Merlin at all.

Merlin's mind was racing. Wasn't this was the part where he apologized? The part where he explained? The moment where he threw himself on his knees begging for forgiveness? But words were sticking in his throat, trapped with that desperate beast that was clawing at his insides as he waited with baited breath.

This was the part where he told him of their prophecy, which could finally truly be _theirs_ rather than _his_ for the first time. If he would just turn around and smile and say that he had always known there was something about him, then he would finally be able to share in this burden.

"And the chains..." not a question, "Because you don't need to..." and his thought trailed off into silence as his jumbled thoughts began to solidify in his head.

Lifetimes went by while Merlin stood, staring, heart trying to break through his ribcage. He should be speaking. He needed to fill the silence before Arthur began jumping to his own conclusions but he felt almost paralyzed with fear. But after too many moments of terror, Merlin managed to speak.

"Sire?" Merlin said, his voice cracking.

Arthur's head snapped around and Merlin thought that he had never been more frightened of the man. "Sire?" he asked viciously, his eyebrows drawn together as he stared incredulous at Merlin.

Merlin's heart plummeted.

"Tell me, Merlin," and he turned around fully and began stalking towards him, "When do you call me that?"

Merlin shook his head and began stumbling backwards, retreating.

"Don't know?" he asked, his voice a terrible mockery of innocence, "Let me remind you then. You call me that when you're _insulting_ me," he said viciously and Merlin flinched at the word as his foot caught a route. He began to fall backwards and Arthur's hand flew out to grab his shirt and Merlin came to a violent halt halfway to the ground, hanging by Arthur's fist, half hidden in the fabric of his shirt.

Arthur hoisted him back up and shoved him into the tree to their side. "Or you call me that when _you know you've done something wrong_," he said, his face inches away from his and his hand still fisted in his shirt. "Which is it today? A bit of both?" Arthur asked, and that tone which had been so sarcastic a moment ago was starting to slip into something far worse, something that revealed just how much he was hurting. If possible, it made Merlin's eyes sting even more.

"A-Arthur," Merlin stammered, "I'm... I'm sorry I didn't-"

"Show me," Arthur interrupted him. It was a command. Not the voice he used to tell Merlin to polish his armor or fetch his breakfast. No, this was a voice that had never been directed at Merlin.

"W-What?" Merlin asked. He was almost paralyzed with fear.

"Show. Me." Arthur breathed, his eyes on fire.

Merlin shook his head fervently.

"I can make you," Arthur said, raising his eyebrows just a fraction. He loosened his grip on Merlin and took a step backwards, just resting his hand on the hilt of his sword rather than grasping it.

"Please, Arthur," Merlin begged, "Gods, Arthur just listen," and it could be described as nothing else. He was begging.

The sound of Arthur's blade being drawn cut through his words and Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, pushing himself further into the tree. This couldn't be happening.

"I won't," he said opening his eyes to see Arthur's sword held in both of his hands by his side, ready to fight.

"You'll have to," Arthur said coldly.

"I won't fight you," Merlin said, his voice stronger now.

"Could you fight me?" Arthur asked, and his body tensed just a fraction as Merlin thought he really considered the question and reacted physically to the threat.

Merlin didn't answer.

"Could you beat me?" Arthur asked, "Kill me even?"

"I wouldn't... I would never..." Merlin said, his voice shaking.

Arthur looked away from him then and Merlin tried to understand the emotions in his features. His eyes were shining and his mouth was open just a fraction but his eyebrows were still knit together, like he was trying desperately to hold his resolve to be angry but something was cracking inside.

Without warning his entire body tensed and his sword was in the air. For a split second, Merlin truly thought he was going to die.

It took every ounce of resolve to restrain his instincts to fight back. He was truly amazed he managed to smother the magic that had automatically erupted in his center because he wouldn't hurt Arthur, not ever.

... but the sword didn't even come close to Merlin, in fact it went flying into the woods, spinning and crashing into a tree, it's bark flying off, before it landed with a clatter on the forest floor. Arthur watched it's progression and Merlin watched him. Arthur's shoulders were shaking and he just stared for the sake of not looking at Merlin.

Merlin wanted to go to him but only had the courage to take one step before he realized he was too afraid to come any closer.

"Why are you telling me this?" Arthur asked quietly. His voice was quavering and his breathing had slowed some.

"What?" Merlin asked, unable to believe it.

"Why are you telling me?" Arthur asked again, voice strained and a hint of desperation behind his words this time.

"I just-" Merlin stopped, he was at a loss of what to say. "I just..." he said again, "wanted you to know who I was... accept me for who I am."

Arthur stared at him and shrugged his shoulders with a hopeless laugh, his voice rising again, too high and almost hysterical, "How am I supposed to do that?"

"Why is it that you can sit in a camp with a cult of Sorcerers, but you can't find any place in your heart to accept _me_?" Merlin asked, desperately searching for something to sway him. "They're strangers and I've been by your side for years!" he almost yelled.

"Because they saved you!" Arthur shouted.

"But this doesn't change that!" Merlin countered.

Arthur laughed, the most humorless and pitiful thing Merlin had ever heard. "It changes everything," Arthur said, his voice quieter now, "If I had known... what you are..." and the words cut straight through Merlin and made his vision cloud, "...then none of this would have happened."

Merlin shook his head, his despair quickly shifting into an emotion he had had no intention of feeling today. "You're right... of course you're right, because if you had known what I was then you would have let me die in that dungeon, isn't that right, Arthur?" Merlin spat.

"You wouldn't have been there in the first place!" Arthur hollered and then the meaning behind those words hit both of them at once and there was a moment that caught both of them in its stillness.

Merlin stared defiantly at him, unsure whether his tears were from rage or grief. "And why is that?" he asked quietly, his voice shaking violently but his words were perfectly clear. "Because you'd have had me killed by now?" he asked the question, his hands trembling.

"Stop it," Arthur said so quietly Merlin almost didn't hear it.

"Tell me, _sire_," Arthur had never heard that word said to him with such venom. "Tell me, would you light the pyre yourself?"

"Stop it!" Arthur shouted and Merlin flinched, but stopped speaking.

After a moment of tense silence that felt like an eternity, Merlin found the courage to speak again.

"I was born like this the same way you were born a Prince," Merlin said weakly. He felt like he was still on the brink of that unexpected rage but he had managed to regain some composure. "I didn't ask for it. I have no choice," he said.

"You do!" Arthur insisted, and he hadn't come down from his fury the same way Merlin had, "You don't have to practice magic! I don't have a choice in the matter. It's my destiny to be King and even if it weren't-"

"DON'T-" Arthur stopped speaking immediately at Merlin's outburst. "Don't talk to me about destinies..." he said, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Like you could underst-"

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted, effectively shutting Arthur up a second time. "Don't you get it?"

Arthur stared, no idea what he was talking about.

"You haven't taken a moment to wonder why I've been living in _Camelot_? As a _sorcerer_?" Merlin asked. "Why I've chosen to serve a man who would have me killed? You're not the only one who has a destiny Arthur."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur snapped.

"Me!" Merlin shouted, "And you!"

Arthur's mouth fell open as Merlin's breath came too quickly and he ignored the burning in his throat.

"_You're_ meant to be the greatest king Camelot has ever known," Merlin said and even as he said it he couldn't keep that tiny feeling of pride away, even in this moment, "Haven't I always told you that?"

Despite himself, Arthur was listening. It was true that Merlin had always had some sort of hidden wisdom that Arthur had wondered at. But more often than not, it felt like a joke that Arthur wasn't in on.

"But I'm meant to be by your side... exactly as I am," Merlin said, shrugging his shoulders.

"What are you talking about," Arthur asked. He tried to sound dubious, angry, accusing. He wanted to hear any of those emotions but what came out was curiosity, thinly veiled with a falsely incredulous tone.

Merlin smiled just barely, "We're meant to do great things... together."

"You're a magician, a criminal and a liar," Arthur said trying to find that contempt he knew he should feel, "There's no room for us to do anything together none the less anything _great_."

"It's been written," Merlin said, his voice even and confident, "It's been seen by prophets for..." he glanced at the sky above him and spoke, "centuries... maybe even millennia... I don't know."

"How do you know any of this... who told you any of this?" Arthur asked.

Merlin laughed to himself, "Everyone... Iseldir and the Druids, Nimueh, Gaius... almost every sorcerer I've come into contact with.. they all know me for who I am," Merlin said.

"Know you?"

"They call me Emrys," Merlin said and Arthur heard an inexplicable familiarity in that name, although he had never heard it before, "And you: The Once and Future King."

Something swelled within Arthur.

Arthur looked off and Merlin thought there was some kind of recognition when he said those words.

"And..." he turned to Merlin once more, "What great things are we meant to do?"

Merlin smiled then, daring to feel a little hope, "Bring magic back to Camelot."

That moment of calm cracked at his words.

"What?" Arthur whispered, shocked, finally the right emotions coming out in his voice.

Merlin froze, sensing the danger.

"Arthur-" he began.

"Is this why you've been doing this?" Arthur's voice was shaking.

"Doing what?" Merlin asked, his hope shattered all over again.

"Biding your time! Lying to me!" Arthur said, "Forcing your way into the palace and my favor in the hopes that you could corrupt me and my kingdom?"

"Arthur, it's not corrupt!" Merlin tried desperately to reason with him, "Camelot used to be a center of magic and it always was until-"

"Until my mother _died_!" Arthur almost screamed. "Until it became clear to the world that Sorcery can only bring death and pain!"

"That's a lie!" Merlin countered, his voice hoarse from hollering.

"You dare to talk to me about _lies_?" Arthur asked, "After you've spent our entire relationship deceiving me!"

"No!" Merlin said, desperately, "Arthur, I never meant to deceive you!"

"Well you did a pretty good job for not trying," Arthur said, his voice quiet and wavering. "It doesn't matter now... I'm not going to be corrupted by you."

He turned and began to walk away and Merlin felt like he was cemented to the ground for just a moment before he realized that his entire future was walking away from him.

"No!" Merlin cried, "Wait, please!" Merlin followed the shape of his broad back, the sunlight making his armor shine.

"Don't!" Arthur spun around and faced Merlin, "Don't follow me anymore. That's not your job anymore."

"Arthur..." Merlin managed to say around the huge lump in his throat, "Arthur, please... it's meant to be this way," he said, his voice wavering somewhere between pleading and sobbing.

"Stop talking about what we're meant to do, what we're meant to be... you were _meant_ to be honest and loyal. You were meant to be my friend, and you can't be that anymore," Arthur said, his voice hoarse from shouting but his words clear.

And that shattered him. He couldn't find any words and it didn't matter because he wouldn't have been able to speak as he choked back another sob, tears falling freely now.

"You can stay here..." Arthur said, and he turned his back because he couldn't watch him cry. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he tried to control his breathing as well. "But you can't come back to Camelot," and that word gave him more courage to say what he had to than anything else. Merlin heard his attempt at authority in his voice but the way it was wavering took away from the effect. "Neither you nor the Druids will be pursued. You can live here with them and I'll spread the word in Camelot that you were killed by Cenred."

"Arthur," Merlin said and his voice cracked, and Merlin saw Arthur's head turn a fraction of an inch in his direction. He swallowed once and took a deep breath before he managed to finally say, "I'm begging you."

They stood like that for a long moment, neither of them willing to accept that the other one was hurting just as much as they were themselves. Merlin hadn't bothered to wipe away the rapidly falling tears.

Arthur wanted to turn around and tell him it was fine. He wanted to stop him crying and be able to find it in his heart to forgive him. More than anything he wanted to forget it, forget any of it happening and go back to the giddy joy of having rescued his best friend and seeing him safe and happy.

"I can't..." Arthur said finally, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please... don't follow me," Arthur said finally. He took a few steps before he turned just enough to see Merlin for what would probably be the last time.

Even from this distance, Merlin could see his eyes pooling and it did nothing to slow his own flow of tears.

"Goodbye, Merlin," Arthur said quietly.

With one last lingering look he turned and walked away from a huge part of his life.

Merlin staggered sideways towards a tree before he crumpled in on himself, sitting on the forest floor while the sobs wracked his body, too broken to move any further.

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><p><em>an: PHEW! Got it out there. I apologize profusely for not having this up in 3 days like I promised, but that's how it goes. This wouldn't be fanfiction if authors updated on time!_

_I'm super curious how you all thought this chapter went. I'm still really unsure about a lot of the dialogue and such. It's hard when a scene is so specific in your head and you're not sure if you're executing it properly in your writing. _

_So please! Let me know what you think!_


	9. Chapter 9

_a/n: I'd like to thank everyone so much for the support they've given me. I've never had a fanfiction get this kind of reaction and I'm honestly so humbled by everyone who's taken the time to read the story or review it or send me a pm about it. Honestly, it's a great feeling, so thank you so much!_

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><p><em>Stitches<em>

_9_

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><p>Arthur fought the burn in his throat as his sure feet led him back to the mouth of the cave, away from the man he had just ruined. He could never have imagined that he could hurt so badly. He had been betrayed countless times by those close to him and otherwise, but it had never made him feel so broken.<p>

The image of Merlin's face, broken by his own words, seemed to be burned into his mind the way the light of a candle in the dark seems to follow in your vision, a little spot of light no matter where you look. But he didn't have that light anymore, he couldn't, so it wasn't fair for it to stubbornly stay with him where he couldn't forget it.

He didn't stop to glance at their horses tethered to a nearby tree before he strode into the cave. He would be back in a moment, he wasn't going to linger. He tried to walk with a purpose, even though he felt he might never have one again.

The moment he was inside, he realized something was amiss. There was a buzz of talk, louder and less serene than it usually was here in the camp of Druids. He looked around for Gwaine and Elyan and found them away from their bags at the center of camp.

Gwaine was sitting with Derryth cradled against his side. Her breathing was erratic and the tears rolled steadily down her cheeks while Gwaine ran a hand over her curls. Iseldir stood by with Elyan, looking uncharacteristically worried.

Arthur approached them slowly, selfishly relieved that there was something to take his mind off of Merlin's betrayal. As he came closer her breaths became more strained and her body began to shake. Arthur was amazed to realize he was afraid for this child he had only so recently met, and with the same sin he had just left Merlin for.

Gwaine noticed the change and pulled her tighter to his side. Her eyes fell on Arthur before anyone else's and her pain was evident. Her eyes were shining and her face was contorted from her usual look of childish beauty to one of agony.

"Derryth..." Arthur said gently, dropping to one knee so he could look at her properly.

"It hurts..." she whined between the tears.

"I know," he said softly going to place a hand on her hair, but she flinched away and hid her face in Gwaine's side. Arthur pulled his hand back and was amazed to see the glare he received from Gwaine.

"Where's Merlin?" he asked. His voice was empty of emotion and it might have been Arthur's frayed nerves, but he sounded accusing.

Arthur held his gaze for a moment, trying to put the pieces together before turning to Iseldir. "What happened?" he asked, "How did she get hurt?"

Iseldir took his eyes away from the girl for the first time to look at Arthur. "She isn't hurt... but she's hurting," he said. Arthur shook his head, no idea what to make of that. Iseldir took a deep breath. "Some very powerful healers are given the burden of... sympathetic pain," Iseldir said, "It is both a blessing and a curse."

"What does that mean?" Arthur asked.

"It means she hurts when someone else hurts," Gwaine said, his voice even and dangerous. Then he asked again, the accusation behind his words perfectly clear this time, "Where's Merlin."

The little girl said a word but it was muffled in Gwaine's shirt, but Arthur could have sworn he had heard her say, "Emrys." The name sounded familiar and welcoming, even though he was sure he had only heard it for the first time this morning from Merlin's lips.

Arthur's heart dropped at his words. Had Merlin gotten hurt? Or worse... had Merlin hurt himself? Every instinct he had wanted him to run to him, drop everything to make sure he was safe like he had done only a few days ago, but he had to stand his ground. He was doing the right thing. Merlin was a traitor, no matter how much it hurt to believe it.

"He's..." Arthur began, reeling from the accusation behind Gwaine's words, "He's..."

"He's what, Arthur?" it was Elyan who spoke this time, and the doubt was clear in his words now. Iseldir raised his eyes to Arthur once more at those words and for the first time, Arthur thought he saw fear there.

"He's in the woods!" Arthur said quickly, his own guilt slipping it's way into his voice.

"In one piece?" Gwaine asked, the venom in his words making every eye flash to him. The chatter in the room began to quiet but the tension rose. Every one was listening now.

Gwaine gently detatched Derryth from his side as he stood and dropped a hand on the hilt of his sword. Arthur realized with a start that he didn't have his sword by his side and he instinctively took a step backwards. Iseldir made like he would stop him but the terror in his eyes was evident.

"No," Iseldir whispered, unable to believe it.

"What does that mean?" Arthur asked. He didn't want to tell the truth, admit his stupidity and humiliation, but this accusation was much scarier.

"He told you, didn't he," Gwaine said. It wasn't a question.

"Told me..." Arthur began to say, and it struck him suddenly that maybe his peers hadn't been as blind as he had been, "How did you..."

"How?" Gwaine laughed bitterly, "A blind man could see it. You just didn't want to because you're so closed-minded!"

Arthur felt his cheeks burning from the truth behind his words. He had been running through the times in their relationship where Merlin's magic made some situations much easier to understand, and he shouldn't be surprised that some people might have taken note where he hadn't.

"Yes!" Arthur snapped, unable to face his own deficiency, "He told me, alright! Told me he was a traitor!"

"Told you he had magic, is what you meant to say," Gwaine's smile was covering something much deeper. There was some kind of desperate grief beneath Gwaine's cold smile as he began to confirm his own worst fears, and it scared Arthur. Desperate men weren't to be trifled with. "And then what did you do, hmm?" Gwaine asked quietly, but his words rang clear for Arthur to hear.

"I d-didn't..." Arthur stammered.

Iseldir began to speak without his usual calm, serene control. He sounded scared and lost, "Arthur, please say you didn't-" but Gwaine cut him off.

"Would you like to explain to us why Derryth here is in so much pain?" Gwaine asked, triumph and hatred dominating his words.

"I didn't!" Arthur said again, his feet taking him backwards away from the approaching threat without his consent. The conclusions they were drawing were jumbled with his guilt and shame and he couldn't think straight for long enough to fully explain himself.

The sound of Gwaine's sword being drawn rang through the cave, echoing off the walls. This was when Arthur realized the entire camp was completely silent and watching the pair of them.

"Did you behead him? Like the honorable little knight you were?" Gwaine asked, loud enough for the entire silent camp to hear.

There were a few Druids who whispered, "Emrys," in desperation and fear, and the sound seemed to echo around the cave, or was that just inside Arthur's own head?

"No!" Arthur shouted now. He stumbled backwards for a moment before his natural instincts to defend himself took over. He found his feet brush against his own bag and saw Elyan's sword near his things. Without a thought of whether he should be provoking Gwaine for his false accusations, it was out of it's sheath and Arthur mirrored Gwaine's fighting stance.

"I knew he was going to tell you he had magic..." Gwaine said, "The second I saw him tell you he had to talk to you about something, I knew. He has too much faith in you..."

It was true and it hurt worse than Gwaine's sword could. Hadn't he trusted him with his life? But he had trusted Merlin as well...

Gwaine continued, "I've never made that mistake. I should have stopped him. I should have known you were too simple-minded to see past your bigoted father to realize how much he's done for you. And now look what you've done."

"What have you done Arthur?" Iseldir's fear had turned to grief and disbelief, there was no hope in his words. He stared, wide-eyed at Arthur with Derryth curled at his feet.

"I swear, whatever you did to him, I'll make sure to do to you... but I promise it won't be ask quick," Gwaine spat, and his sword came down at last.

Arthur's sword flew up to defend himself without his even realizing it. Gwaine took no time easing into the fight, their blades were blurred from the speed of the attack.

Arthur was on auto-pilot, too afraid of their words and too afraid of whatever truth might be behind them to focus on the man bent on killing him. The sword came crashing down again and again and he managed to deflect it, but he was on the defensive, and Gwaine was too good of a fighter to give him any kind of advantage.

But gradually the sound of steel on steel grounded him, and the thoughts of Merlin began to fade as his blade met Gwaine's once, twice, over and over again. He stopped stumbling backwards and they came to a standstill as he matched his strikes, blow for blow.

Arthur forced Gwaine backwards, finally on the offensive, the strength behind his strikes greater with every one, until he was standing with his back to the great stone table that Merlin had been lain that first night in the center of the room. That little fire began to build up in him as he realized he was going to win, and that terrible triumph that came with taking a man's life clouded his thoughts.

Maybe that was why he ignored the shouts of, "Stop! Stop it, please! I'm begging you!" because it did nothing to soften his blows as he saw Gwaine's eyes widen in shock and hope. His sword slowed and his eyes flew to something behind Arthur.

This was Arthur's opening. His eyes locked on Gwaine's blade as his own moved of it's own accord to take the final blow that would end the fight and end Gwaine.

But he never met his mark. His sword was inches away from his body when he felt an enormous power hurl him backwards into the air. Suspended for that moment in nothingness, he recognized the voice who had shouted for them to stop... Merlin.

He landed flat on his back, his head ricocheting off the floor beneath him as he landed. All the air was knocked out of his lungs and his vision erupted into blackness and tiny specks of light. It took him many moments to realize what must have happened.

He sat up and blinked the black away from his vision until he could see Gwaine's back to him, still at the great stone table, hugging Merlin so tightly he thought he might break him. But Merlin was facing Arthur, and he stared straight at him, wide-eyed and afraid. Arthur knew that the look was one of terror not because of Arthur's wrath, but because Merlin was afraid he had hurt him. It made him feel even more hollow.

Elyan stood between the pair and Arthur with wide eyes. Arthur had no idea what else to do other than stand and hand him back his sword. Elyan took it, unable to say anything.

"I'm going back to Camelot," Arthur said to him, "I told Guinevere I'd bring you home, but you don't have to return with me. I'll be happy to travel alone."

Elyan stared at him, trying to take everything in at once. Behind him Merlin had pulled himself away from Gwaine and had taken one tentative step towards Arthur, but had stopped himself. That was the first time Arthur realized what he had in his hand.

Arthur's sword was hanging by the hilt in his hand, half-raised towards him.

"You left it... after you threw it..." his voice was raw, and Arthur didn't want to remember that it was like that from shouting at him and crying at his expense.

Arthur was caught for a moment. Merlin's eyes were rimmed with red, as Arthur imagined his own were, but what was worse was the kind of dead defeat behind them. It made his throat burn again and he quickly used the sword as a distraction.

He took the few steps towards him and took the hilt before replacing it smoothly in it's sheath.

Gwaine was standing by Merlin's side, just a little in front of him, protective. His sword was still hanging by his side but the fire in his eyes had died and Arthur knew how relieved he was that Merlin was alive. He knew exactly how relieved, hadn't he felt that same joy only a few short days ago? So much had changed...

"I'm sorry," Arthur said to Gwaine, trying not to feel the burn of Merlin's eyes on him, "Truly."

"As am I," Gwaine said, uncharacteristically contrite.

Arthur turned to Merlin then, his face half-hidden by Gwaine's shadow. He didn't know what else he could say to him. He surprised himself by what came out of his mouth.

"Thank you," he said quietly, their eyes locked. Merlin's widened by a fraction. Arthur hoped Merlin knew it wasn't for returning his sword. He hoped he knew it was for stopping him from doing something he would never forgive himself for. He hoped he knew it was for everything they had been through together, magic or not. He hoped he knew it was for being a friend, when he had been so alone.

But he had never felt lonelier than this moment, with those few feet between them but so much more as well.

Merlin nodded once, and then there was nothing left to say. Their eyes finally broke as Arthur turned to pick up his bag and make his way out of the castle. He felt every eye on him as he made to leave. He remembered the prophecy, how these men, women and children called his friend 'Emrys.' He felt the weight of having killed their prophecy and their hopes like a crushing boulder on his shoulders.

He felt a rush of relief as he stepped outside, away from defeated eyes of the Druids and his friend. He took the few paces to his horse and put a hand between his eyes. The horse pressed his face into his hand and Arthur felt that very temporary relief replaced with a distinct feeling of emptiness.

Arthur untied his horse and hoisted himself into the saddle. He had to follow his own destiny.

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><p><em>an: So, I started writing this chapter and literally this part of the story came out of nowhere. I had not planned on this, but I'm really happy with what it ended up being. It all stemmed from me realizing Arthur had forgotten to pick up his sword after he threw it. So that means there will almost definitely be 2 more chapters even though I said only 2 more last time. So more angsty goodness for you!_

_Let me know what you thought!_


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